


Kitten On the Catwalk

by Poochee



Category: Marvel, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fashion & Models, Androgyny, Crossdressing, Denial of Feelings, Fashion & Couture, Flirting, Frenemies, Genderfluid Character, Hand Jobs, Intimacy, Loki - Freeform, M/M, Male Slash, Model!AU, Oral Sex, Pansexual Character, Platonic Female/Male Relationships, Promiscuity, References to Alcohol, Rimming, Sex, Thor - Freeform, safe sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-05
Updated: 2014-11-15
Packaged: 2017-12-28 12:24:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 39,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/991978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Poochee/pseuds/Poochee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[Model!AU]</p>
<p><i>“My dreams are </i>not<i> bullshit, Thor. You may not have dreamed of being a model when you were a kid, but </i>I<i> did. </i>This<i> is my life, Thor, I love posing for pictures for magazines and collections, walking down a long runway wearing clothes that barely fit me, and getting blisters from beautiful shoes—this is what I want to do with myself. It’s what I’m </i>good <i> at, and when you grow up hearing things like ‘freak’ and ‘he-she’ and ‘it’, when all of your hard work begins to pay off, it feels fucking </i>great<i>. You may not be able to understand that, but I do, and that’s all that should matter.” </i></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Kitten On the Catwalk  
Winter 2011

  
**  


It was early November in New York City. It shouldn’t have been this cold in his apartment.

Thor had been woken up by his buzzer, someone ringing from the lobby twelve stories down. He had forced himself up and out of his bed, toes curling against the ice-cold floors. The temperature shocked him awake by the time he got near his door, and without asking who it was, he let them in with the press of a button.

He returned to his bedroom, rubbing his muscled arms with a sleepy frown as he pulled on the nearest sweater and shoved his feet into some slippers, shuddering as he ventured out to the hall and walked down to his sunken living room. He passed by the open kitchen and went towards the patio, pushing the blinds aside and squinting to look outside. The sun wasn’t that high in the sky, in fact, the smog was still thick, hanging around the tall buildings.

The knocking at his door pulled him away from the patio, and he shuffled his way back to the entrance.

“Who’s it?” He asked through the wood, voice thick from sleep.

“Sif, now let me in!”

Oh, right.

He unlocked the door with a yawn and opened it, smiling at her as she walked in, “It’s half passed seven, what the hell are you doing here?” He asked, not returning her ‘good morning!’ while rubbing at an eye as he shut the door again, locking it once more.

Sif placed her boots aside before turning to Thor with a much-too-wide-grin, especially for this time of the day. No one was allowed to be so chipper at this hour.

“Well?” He repeated, and then she shoved a dark blue file at him.

What the--

His shoot results.

He pushed them right back into her chest, and Sif cocked a brow, “What? Don’t want them?” She asked, a little hurt before Thor turned her around by the shoulders and pushed them towards the kitchen.

“I’ll look, but you can keep them…” he muttered, running his fingers through his long, tangled hair in hopes of taming it just a little. “You’re my agent, after all…put them in my portfolio or something…”

Sif rolled her eyes and went to the counter, opening the file to look at them.

He’s known Sif since he began all of this. She worked for one of the agencies he belonged to, and they moment they met, they became instant friends. It was weird how easy they got along, but it was good, since she was his main agent. He hadn’t ventured outside of the US much.  Not yet, anyway.  
  
“Willy did an _amazing_ job again,” Sif murmured under her breath as she looked through the pictures, hazel eyes glued to Thor’s face on the papers. There were twenty pictures in total, scaled down to fit five pictures on each of the four pages. They were just head shots at different angles, his hair gelled back to emphasize his blue eyes and oh, were they blue.

Thor didn’t really want to look at himself, he didn’t like to, but he _had_ to, because why wouldn’t he? Even if he was edited like the other models in the shoot, he had to admit he looked nice.

“Which one’s your favourite?” Sif asked softly, spreading the papers out on the kitchen counter. Thor bit his thumb nail as he scanned each photo.

“That,” he muttered, pointing to a random one, because he couldn’t - _wouldn’t_ \- pick and she knew it, but asked anyway.

“This is mine,” she said, showing him one where his hair was in his face slightly, lips parted softly as he stared into the camera from under his lashes. A typical model pose by now…

Thor hummed noncommittally and left the counter, running his fingers through his hair once more and gathering it into a small bun at the nape of his neck, “So, you’re here because…” he trailed off, searching for an elastic band.

“We’re going for breakfast!” She exclaimed, turning away from the pictures and towards the model, “Now hurry up, I’m starving…”

Thor let his hair fall back into place and went to change.

\--

A pair of pants, a t-shirt, and a leather jacket later, Thor was ready. He had even found an elastic in the bathroom and tied his hair back as he wet his tooth brush underneath the tap.  
  
“So, bad news,” Sif muttered as she appeared at the doorway, “I couldn’t really get you into any shows this month,” she said it with a look of worry on her face, brows knitted and bottom lip between her teeth. It was as if she was waiting for the imminent disappointment, and Thor was never one to disappoint.

He frowned at her reflection in the mirror, toothbrush hanging from between his lips.

“I know, I know!” She exclaimed, going towards him “I’m terrible, but I really did phone _everyone_ to see if they needed a male model to walk. They didn’t! But, hey,” she went over and patted his back cheerily, her smile bright in the mirror, “You’re on the cover of _i-D_ , Thor. That’s a huge deal! We have to celebrate!”

He supposed she was right. “We’re celebrating with breakfast?” He asked around his toothbrush, cocking a brow and Sif smirked at him, patting his muscled back once more before leaving the bathroom.

“You’re damn right we’re celebrating with breakfast,” she said, and Thor spat into the sink.

\--  
  
Thor would admit to being giddy as they neared the newsstand, although the sight of his face on glossy paper caught him off-guard. There it was, his face cocked to the side with a soft expression, staring right into the camera. Gods, that was him?

“Oh, good, they picked that one!” Sif grinned as she picked up the copy behind the first one, both of them huddling around the issue, “I love this one of you, you don’t look so…mean,” she laughed softly but Thor just _stared_ , not making a peep. This was so surreal. Everyone who read this, or passed by it, would see his face, in all of its photoshopped glory.

Was it possible to be star struck by yourself in a non-narcissistic way?

“Thor!” Sif shook his shoulder, and he finally snapped out of it, blinking his blue eyes wide as he looked at the smaller woman. She laughed at his alarmed look before handing him the copy, “Here. A gift, from me,” she paid the man with a ten dollar bill for two of the issues before leaving with her change.

“Has it sunk in yet?” She asked as they crossed the street, their long legs carrying them easily, “That you’re on the cover of a magazine?” She sounded more excited than _he_ did.

“I think I’m still in a bit of shock,” he admitted, glancing down at the magazine in his hand again. _Wow_.

“Oh, that’s normal,” she said with a flick of her hand, a look of ‘oh, please’ on her face and Thor finally cracked a smile.

“Like you’ve ever worked with another model,” he took a jab at her, and was awarded with a sharp look, followed by an even sharper laugh. The punch to his arm seemed a little unnecessary, though.

The café they decided to eat at was just down the street, and they took a spot by the window, shedding their coats and scarves, hanging them on the backs of their chairs before taking a seat.

“Alright,” Sif pushed her ponytail behind her shoulder, eyes bright as she pressed her hands onto her issue of _i-D_ and stared directly at Thor. He shifted in his seat before placing his issue on the table as well, looking back at her expectantly. They had promised.  “One…two…three!”

They flipped the cover open and burst out into soft laughter, because they were ridiculous.

“Oh, the other models are gorgeous, too…” Sif sighed dreamily, flipping through the other covers, as did Thor. He wanted to see how their shots had gone, as he had watched from the side just to get some pointers and see how they worked. It had been an interesting time, and he had learned new things that he wanted to try if given another chance.

He flipped through a few ads without much interest before finally looking up at Sif, watching her for a moment before clearing his throat, “Do you want me to go up and order for you?” He asked, and she glanced up at him for half a second, “Please,” she said with a smile, “Whatever breakfast wrap they have, and a coffee. Thanks.” And he got up to order their breakfast.

He couldn’t help but to reflect while he stood in line, arms crossed over his chest easily as he eyed the glass shielding the food selections. This had been his first official photo shoot, he had been _paid_ for it; it wasn’t just some rookie photographer who wanted to practice his shots for free. Thor thought it had gone well enough, he had been praised by the photographer now and then during it, and so he was confident he would get more shoots.

The only experience he had besides this professional shoot was about two or three amateur shoots (one for his portraits) and three shows. He had been incredibly lucky with his first show: he opened and closed it. It had been the biggest honor, as a model, and as a new face in the industry. He actually enjoyed being put into suits and walking down a runway, and apparently others did, too. Louis Vuitton had him open and close their Spring/Summer show, and it had officially been the best start he could have for his career. He had been named one of the “Super Six” Rising Male Models by Models.com this September, and ever since then, he’s been getting offers for editorials and shows, and now, photo shoots. He never expected things to go so well so soon.

He had a minor part in another show after an Americano editorial, for Y-3, and it had been fun but it didn’t compare to his first two shows. He really couldn’t wait for more they were such fun despite the stress at the beginning. All of the rushing around made everyone testy, so he always did his best to be polite and courteous, re-dressing as quickly as he could whenever he came from the runway. 

“Guess what,” Sif said excitedly when he returned, pocketing his wallet before he sat.

“What?”

“You have another shoot.”

His eyes flew open, “ _No_ ,” So soon? “When?”

Sif looked as giddy as he felt, “Two weeks, for Calvin Klein. I’m going to try and get you another shoot so you’ll be busy for the rest of the month, and maybe another editorial. I think you’ll have some interviews to do, too, mister, so get your story straight!” She grinned at him happily.

Thor slumped back against his seat, blue eyes wide as he eyed the tabletop. Everything was happening so fast, it was just unreal. He really needed to be pinched. “Pinch me.”

She happily did it.

“Ow!” This was it. This was actually happening.                                                                                                                 

“I know its fast, but you’re just going to have to roll with it, okay? You’re easily becoming one of the hottest male models in the country, Thor. People are going to want you left and right, and you have to be ready to give yourself to them.”

“You make me sound like a prostitute.”

She laughed merrily before shushing him, “You know what I mean. I’ve been checking out stuff online, and just by Googling your name, tons of fan pages and blogs come up about you. You’re practically famous!”

That was actually pretty exciting. People _liked_ him. Of course, he had always been liked in school, but these were strangers who just saw his face and body online and in magazines or on runways. It was mind-blowing to think people _wanted_ him.

One of the baristas came over and handed them their breakfast, and an easy silence settled over them as they began to eat.

\--

They loitered after they ate, sipping their coffee and green tea slowly as they continued to flip through the magazine. It had been their promise to read Thor’s first magazine together, no matter what it was, so here they were, idly flipping about thoughtfully. None of the ads really stood out to him, he mostly read the snippets about what was coming up and which line would be the next to show their new season.

He flipped a page, chin resting in his hand, and did a double take. There was a woman, body turned slightly from the camera, but head tilted forward to look right into the lens. She was utterly gorgeous, sharp cheekbones with smouldering green eyes that popped out against the fitting red dress, barely covering her thin porcelain body. Her long, blonde hair was parted off-centre, lying flat against her head but curled ever so slightly, the tips ending just at her chest. Gods, was she beautiful. Thor didn’t believe in love at first sight, but she was definitely breathtaking.

“Who is this?” He asked, looking up from the magazine and showing Sif the ad for a push-up bra, which he guessed the model was wearing underneath. It didn’t really do that much, cleavage-wise, but it made sense with her body type.

His agent leaned over and looked down at the picture, eyes brows furrowing for a moment before her eyes lit up, “Oh, that’s Loki Laufeyson!”

Wait.

“ _Loki_? Isn’t that a boy’s name?”

“Of course,” she smirked, and all but whipped out her phone, typing away as she spoke, “He’s becoming really popular these days - just like you - although he’s been in the industry for about a year longer. He did this show recently and his fame is sky-rocketing from it.” She turned her phone to him, and Thor watched the ‘woman’ he had been praising just moments before walk down a runway, dressed like a bride with his hair up.

_He_. “No way, you’re pulling my leg,” he said, cracking a little smile of uncertainty as he glanced back up at Sif. She just shook her head, that knowing little smirk on her face, like she knew his thoughts.  

“He’s the number one androgynous model in the _world_ , Thor.”

“And that is…?”

She picked up the magazine and hit him over the head with it, lightly (thankfully), “It means,” she said, placing the flimsy papers back down onto the table, “That he can model both male and female clothes. He has the _look_ of androgyny, as in he looks like either sex. It’s disturbingly beautiful, really.”

This was new. _Very_ new, to Thor, at least. Androgynous models; he had never heard of such a thing!

“You thought he was a woman, yeah?” She asked, that teasing smirk on her lips again. Thor gave a small, guilty nod, and she laughed at him. “I did, too, don’t worry,” she reached over and patted his hand, a gesture that mocked instead of comforted.

“So, does he get twice the opportunities, or what?” He was curious.

“I don’t know,” Sif shrugged, “I’m not his agent.”

Reasonable answer, but it didn’t satisfy his sudden intrigue in this model.

“Where’s he from?”

“Sweden.”

“He’s a Swede…”

“Is that bad?”

“No, I’m just…intrigued.”

Yes, he was.

 

**

 

“ _And that’s it!_ ”

Loki’s red-painted lips widened in a soft smile, his face softening from the former smoulder as he began bowing his head; a round of applause went around for him and the photographer.

He shrugged off the fur coat on his shoulders before handing them to the stylist, thanking her before he walked over to the photographer. “ _Thank you so much_ ,” he said, gently gripping the man’s hands, giggling as Pablo kissed his soft knuckles gently before running off a thousand words in Spanish, praising Loki from what the model briefly caught. “ _So much fun working with you_ ,” he continued, taking his manicured hands from Pablo’s and walking off the set.

The director, Carlos, came over, wearing a big shit-eating grin that Loki nearly laughed at, “That was perfect!” He said, and Loki smiled shyly at the praise, as he was still getting used to the kindness of those he worked with now.

“Thank you, so much for the opportunity. This was so much fun.”

Carlos motioned for him to follow, and Loki did, until they returned to the back where he had been getting ready.

“Will you have time for an interview?”

“Yes, of course!” He bit the tip of this tongue.

He dreaded another interview.

“Very good! I will send one of my editors right away!” And then Carlos was gone. Loki waited until the hair stylist left before he huffed and slumped back in his chair, brushing his blonde hair back from his face and pulled his legs up against his chest, eyes closing.

It had been a long day. He was a little jet-lagged from the fly in, but other than that, he was more or less fine. _S Moda_ had demanded that he be on the cover of their next issue, so Darcy had picked up the plane tickets and here he was. The interview hadn’t been part of the deal, but he knew it would be good for his image. That’s what Darcy usually said, anyway, and he trusted her.

While he waited for the editor, he got up and began to change, shutting the curtain to his makeshift dressing room before unbuttoning the tight leather pants he had been put into. He couldn’t wait to see how the pictures had come out, what they would choose to put on the cover.

“ _Hello!_ ”

“Erm, hi!” He called back, panicking slightly before pulling up his jeans quickly and fighting with his white shirt. So much for his little bit of peace and quiet. He pulled the curtain back once he was decent and welcomed two petite women inside, offering them a seat across from his, fighting back a look of annoyance. They looked happy to see him, so he forced a polite smile.

“Hello, Mr. Laufeyson,” one woman said, her hair pinned up nicely, “My name is Lola, I’m going to be the translator. This is Emile, she’ll be asking you the questions,” she gestured to the other woman next to her, much younger, probably an intern from the looks of it.

“That sounds wonderful,” Loki bit his tongue again, finally taking a seat. It was bothersome, but whatever.

“Alright let’s get right to it!”

\--

They had asked the same questions everyone else did, but in Spanish. Why he wanted to become a model, how he did, who he looked up to, what sex and/or gender he preferred, and how his career was going so far. He hoped his answers at least translated well, to save him from _some_ embarrassment. He had spilled one too many things again.

Darcy phoned him just as he was pulling the rings from his fingers.

“Hello?”

“Hola, señor o señorita!”

Loki barely refrained from rolling his eyes.

“Where are you? You said you’d be here when the shoot ended! I had to do an interview by myself…” He liked to have Darcy present during those, so he knew when to shut up about certain subjects.

“Sorry, Divalicious” she drawled, “But work Skyped while I was at the hotel. I’m on my way now, though, I _swear_.”

Loki shut the little case for the jewelry and set it aside on the makeup counter, pouting his red lips, “You better be,” he muttered before hanging up abruptly, smirking to himself.

And Darcy was ten minutes later than Loki had expected her to be. He entered the car, ignoring her completely, even as she nudged his side and pointed out certain things they passed by. His cold shoulder treatment was effective, to say the least.

“So, how was it? The shoot and interview?”

But he couldn’t ignore that question, so, he turned to her, “It was _amazing_. You missed out. The photographer was so funny, I swear he fell in love with me and confessed after the shoot,” he smirked, “Everyone was really nice, although the interview was pretty much déjà vu of all the past ones…”

Darcy made a face, “Same ol’ questions?” She asked, and Loki nodded with a little shrug. She grinned then, “Did you tell them you used to wear your mother’s clothes when you were a kid?”

Loki rolled his eyes this time, and Darcy laughed loudly because _yes_ , he had. As embarrassing as it was to admit, it’s where his playing-with-the-sexes began. Besides, he had been a kid and it was cute then, but not so much when he turned sixteen and bought his own clothes from the girl’s section.

“Where are we going now?” He asked once she calmed down, and Darcy pulled out her phone to check their schedule.

“Well,” she began, drawing out the ‘e’, “First, we’re going to get some food into your skinny-ass body,” she said, and Loki nodded as he glanced out of the window, pushing back the thought of _‘I’m not hungry’_ , “ _Then_ , we’re gonna go and find a pair of sexy boots for me, and maybe some new heels for you.”

He glanced back, eyebrows raised, “What about going home?” And he already had plenty of heels mixed in with his sneakers and dress shoes at home. He had been looking forward to heading back to the States this evening. The US had recently become his home, since his career was beginning to flourish and living there was more central than living in Gothenburg, despite being part of an agency there. Besides, it was a change, and Loki loved change. He lived for it.

Darcy gave him a look, one very close to ‘are you crazy?’

“You’d rather go _home_ than go _shoe shopping_ in _Barcelona_? Did they change your morals during that photo shoot or something? Geez…” Because shoe shopping was a moral.

“I’m fucking _tired_ , Darc...” That was his explanation, because he was tired from the flight and waking up early.

And she wasn’t buying it, “So am I, asshole, now shut up and decide what you want to eat so I can tell this guy in the monkey suit where to stop.”

\--

After a lunch consisting of salad and grilled chicken in a local restaurant, they were back in the car. The drive was taking a little longer than he had thought, so when they began to drive into the ‘big business building’ part of the city, he asked, “Okay, where are we going _now_?”

“Shoes,” Darcy chirped, just as the car pulled over to the sidewalk. Loki was confused. There were absolutely no shoe places around.

 “Either you’re lost or have finally gone insane, Darcy, there aren’t any shoe shops around here…” He eyed her wearily as she began to unbuckle herself from her seat, smiling at him widely.

This was creeping him out a little.

“Well, if there aren’t any shoe shops, what _do_ you see?”

He eyed her for a moment more, and then carefully turned to look out of the window, to the sign they were nearly underneath.

Sight Management Studio.

They were at an agency.

“Darc…”

“Surprise!”

Loki began to cry.

\--

“Oh, I hate you so much,” Loki muttered as he fixed his makeup in her makeup compact just outside the lobby, but Darcy was grinning the entire time.

“I really did surprise you. You never burst into tears, ya big sissy.” She was so damn smug.          

Still, he hugged her again for the tenth time in the last fifteen minutes, holding her curvy body against his thin one a little awkwardly from the height difference, and willed himself not to cry anymore. Darcy was just…amazing. It wasn’t very professional to act this way with his agent, but sometimes she seemed more like a close friend than the person that kept him in line and got him jobs. He was so thankful for this pain-in-the-ass who teased him constantly.

“Thank you so much,” he whispered, and she rubbed his back gently until he finally pulled away again.

“Ready?” She asked, raising a brow and quirking her full lips in a smile.

“Yeah.” He hoped so.

They sat down in the waiting room after Darcy introduced herself to the receptionist, and had promised that the wait would be no longer than ten minutes. Loki didn’t mind. It gave his face time to get rid of the pink flush.

“Mag?” Darcy offered, after bringing a pile into her lap. Loki eyed it for a moment before taking the one on top and flipping through it. It was in Spanish, so he sighed and set it aside, looking through the stack once more. He only knew a little bit of the language, so it was irritating when he couldn’t read something or talk to someone.

They had the newest issue of American _i-D_ , thankfully, but that was the second thing Loki noticed.

The man on the cover had caught his attention first. That in itself was strange, since rarely anyone caught his eye anymore.

“Darc,” he whispered, nudging her a little too roughly, and she made an angry little noise before glancing over at the magazine in Loki’s hands.

“Oh, who is _that_?” She purred, grinning as she shifted to get a better look at the man on the cover. Loki’s green eyes were taking in every inch of the picture, from the gelled blond hair to the masculine lips...goddamn, those blue eyes.

“I was hoping you’d know,” he murmured, beginning to flip through the magazine, “Is he new…?”

Darcy was humming softly, brows knitted together as she thought. “Must be…but he looks familiar…” she muttered to herself, “Check the inside,” she offered, and Loki did just that.

“Thor…Odinson…” He read slowly, tasting the name on his tongue, and he definitely liked the way it felt coming from his mouth.

“Oh, yeah!” Darcy straightened and closed the magazine to look at the man again, “He was named one of the top six rising male models,” she grinned, glad to have remembered, “He’s walked for Louis Vuitton and Prada-- he closed and opened both shows.”

Loki was actually impressed. “He opened and closed both?” He repeated, looking over at her and watching her nod.

“He’s a rookie, but he’s got a strut like no other…and judging by this shoot, I’d say you actually got some _competition_ ,” she clicked her tongue smartly, grinning while Loki glanced down at the picture again.

No, no competition at all…

“I want my next show to be with him, _now_.”

  
**


	2. Chapter 2

Kitten On the Catwalk  
Winter 2012/Spring 2012 

It’s January, and it’s even more bone-chilling than the last month. It’s thirty-four degrees today, according to the weather app on his phone, but despite that cool temperature, Loki is lounging on the foot of his King-size bed with his window wide open.

His bed is pressed against the sill, as he loves to read here in the mornings while the sun is rising, and he half-listens to The White Stripe’s _Elephant_ playing on his iPhone a few feet away. He’s on his stomach, arms crossed over one another in front of him, chin resting comfortably in the space as his toes curl now and then behind him.

He’s always loved the cold; the snow. It’s never affected him the same way it does most of these New Yorkers; hiding away in their warm homes and shops. The cold breeze stings his face gently as he gazes out of the window, his pale cheeks flushed pink and the tip of his straight nose was beginning to turn the same colour. His eyes are soft as he gazes across the top of the buildings, crossing his ankles as a blond strand of his hair tickles his cheek.  
  
Despite the lazy and calm setting, Loki is…perturbed.

Agitated.

Maybe even _annoyed_.

All because of some not-competition named Thor Odinson.

Even thinking of his name draws a soft frustrated growl from the Swede, and he buries his face into his arms in a fit.

Thor isn’t anything special. He hasn’t been noticed around the world, he doesn’t create controversy wherever he goes; he’s _nothing_. Sure, the Norwegian is handsome and sculpted like a Bernini statue and has shoulders as wide as a Greek god, but models like that were a dime a dozen these days…

But not all of them had such charisma and passion like Thor did, from what Loki had read from his interviews. They weren’t so laid-back and friendly with interviewers, ready with a joke or a zing within a moment’s notice. They weren’t _Thor_.

And that upset Loki. Thor wasn’t supposed to be so… _Thor_.

Thor, Thor, Thor, _Thor_! That’s all he’s been hearing these days!

Thor Odinson, rising from the bowels of nothing, refusing different agency offers _twice_ before finally submitting his portraits to DNA Models, acting as if being offered a modeling contract was something had happened every single _fucking_ day.

Grumbling, Loki lifts his head once more and glares out of the window, chewing on the tip of his tongue.

Thor’s face and name popping up everywhere isn’t really what’s gotten him so riled up. No, it’s a completely different reason. It’s not because Thor is physically perfect, or because he’s turning up in every magazine Loki reads, or being interviewed by every single fashion blog in New York. No, no. Loki can deal with that, he’s doing twice that.

It’s the fact that Thor may soon _take over_ the male modeling spectrum that bothers him, and it’s poking Loki in the side, like a coal-hot tip jabbed between his ribs, scorching him in a jealous heat that makes him want to scream every time he sees Thor in a new suit.

Loki is self-aware, always has been; it’s what makes him such a great model. It’s why he’s ever-so-steadily rising to the top, nearing that supermodel status. And he wants that, oh, does he _crave_ it. He wants it like nothing else. It’s his dream - the reason behind his burning passion; that fire in his soul that he’s built up from a smouldering little pit.

And Thor is stomping all over it.

Not purposely, of course, Loki can see that, but the way he _does_ see it: Thor is definitely competition. Loki may be drawing all of the attention in women’s fashion to himself, but he has barely done anything for the male side of the industry, and now it’s coming back to bite him in the ass with Thor Odinson.

Thor is masculine, ridiculously so, with his boyish charm and rippling muscles. He’s everything a traditional man should be, and even though Loki could easily list off the various reasons as to why he isn’t going to allow himself to do so.

With a little huff, Loki pushes himself up and reaches forward, shutting his window easily and ignoring the snow that flies onto his bed. He pulls his laptop from one of his pillows and sets it on his lap, opening it up and typing his password in with swift, nimble fingers. He types ‘Thor Odinson’ into the search bar, and takes in the new results that pop up, biting on his black-painted fingernails.

Admittedly, he has respect for the Norwegian. He’s rising up from nothing, just like Loki had, but thing is that he hadn’t even _wanted_ to model in the first place. And that pisses Loki off, too. Loki’s been craving this his whole life, ever since he was a teen, chasing a nearly impossible dream and look where he is now! On magazine covers, billboards, runways, and soon even TV commercials. His dream is almost complete, he’s so close, there’s only one thing he wants before he can die happy: _Male Model of the Year_.

How is he supposed to win that with Thor in the way?

He clicks on the newest link and waits patiently, although his fingers tap and toes curl again. He’s done this already, searching up his competition’s name now and then just to see what he’s accomplished. It’s like motivation for him.

And Thor’s accomplished a lot in the past month.

He’s done Chanel, Coach, Valentino, Hugo Boss, Versace for H&M--Loki’s lips quirk up in a smirk as he clicks on a video, laughing behind his hand as he watches Thor walk down the runway in crazy white and black print pants.

 _This_ was his competition.

**

  
“LA isn’t supposed to rain this much,” Thor mumbled as he looked out of the terminal windows, watching planes pull in from the heavy rain.

Sif glanced up from her phone and looked outside, smirking at Thor until she returned to her email, “It’s mid-January, of course it’s supposed to rain,” she said softly.

They had landed just twenty minutes earlier, flying directly across the country in just over five hours. Thor was still rubbing the kink out of his neck, not as tired-looking as he had been when they had first boarded.

“Didn’t bring an umbrella, did you?” He had forgotten in his sleepy state when he had been forced out of his apartment.

“Of course,” Sif hummed, digging into her carry-on and pulling out a black umbrella, standing to hand it to her model as they began to make their way through the terminal.

“LA isn’t supposed to be this chilly, either,” Thor said as they left the airport, tucking his scarf tighter around his neck as they made their way towards the awaiting yellow cabs.

Sif just laughed at him, delighted.

\--

The trip to LA Models is just as uneventful as their flight had been, full of Sif texting and emailing as Thor looked out of the rain-streaked window.

It definitely wasn’t as cold as New York; there was no snow at all, just rain. Admittedly, Thor liked the rain better, especially storms. Perhaps he should move here…no. It was better just to stay in NY. He had been in LA before, when he was a kid and with his family, as a vacation. It had been sunny and warm then.

“We shouldn’t be there too long,” Sif piped up, finally tucking her phone away as she glanced over at Thor, “Signing the release forms for the pictures and whatnot, you know it all by now.” He did.

Thor looked over at her, “And then we can go eat real food?” The food on the plane had been terrible.

“If you’re good,” Sif teased with a grin, and Thor nudged her side with his elbow.

\--

They didn’t have to wait for very long in the agency waiting room; they had been expected. The director of the Calvin Klein Spring Presentation had them taken to a meeting room down the hall and they sat down, read the various files and papers (Sif did), while Thor just signed where his agent told him to. He had done this so many times already, and he was sure she was bored of reading the same things over and over again.

They smoothed out the little details of where to meet and what time, how long it would take, how many models there would be, and just general questions that were answered.

“Thank you very much!” The chipper man said as he was handed the last form, tucking the papers into a file that was tabbed ‘Thor Odinson – CK Spring 2012 Pres’. He stood and offered his hand to them, “I’ll see you both in two weeks!” Sif thanked him, as did Thor, and the pair left the room.

“See? Didn’t take any time at all,” Sif smiled over her shoulder, and Thor just gave a small nod in agreement, although it had been well over forty-five minutes.

They passed through the hallway quickly, but before Sif could push open the door to the waiting room, it was pulled from the other side, and Thor caught sight of a beautiful curvy woman.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” the woman laughed, eyes trained on Sif who had probably been startled by it all.

“No, it’s fine,” Sif said, diffusing it with a soft laugh. The brunette quickly glanced back at Thor and her eyes widened before she looked at Sif, and it was as if they had a small, silent conversation with their eyebrows and a single nod from his agent.

_‘Is yours a diva, too?’_

_‘Yes, sometimes.’_

Women.

“Excuse us,” Sif said politely with a smile, and the curvy woman nodded as she all but stepped back to hold the door open for them. Sif didn’t hesitate to go through the opened door, saying a quick ‘thank you’ while she passed, and Thor gave the shorter woman a pleasant smile. The woman was looking at him with an appreciative eye, something he was all too accustomed to.

Thor turned forward and narrowly missed bumping into another woman, their eyes locking as they backed away, an apology ready on Thor’s lips until it went running back down his throat to the pit of his stomach.

Loki Laufeyson.

The pair of bright green eyes were wide and startled, almost a deer-in-headlights, and Thor was sure his blue pair was the same. The androgynous man was even more breathtaking in person. Loki’s blonde hair, now dark at the roots, was tied up in a messy tail, his lips a perfect pink pout against his porcelain skin.

Then, Loki’s surprised expression softened, and he flicked his eyes up and down Thor’s body, just like the woman had, and Thor couldn’t decide if he wanted to shy away or puff up his chest. When their eyes met once more, Loki gave him a flirtatious wink and smile before bypassing him completely. Thor watched him go, those long legs carrying him through the doorway.

Thor stood there even after the door closed, and Sif had to pull him forward by the arm, a smirk bright on her face as he finally complied and they left the building.

What had just happened?  
  
**

The first week of February rolled around far sooner than Thor had expected, and just like two weeks prior, he and Sif were on their way back to LA.

The weather hadn’t improved all that much. He still wore layers and had to use an umbrella, but the rain was more of a mist today than anything else.

“Why can’t I have food before the shoot?” Thor whined as they walked down the street, sharing Sif’s umbrella yet again. They had been in a cab not even ten minutes ago, but because of some three or four car collision, there was a detour that would make them late.

So they walked.

“Because your stomach will bloat,” she replied, moving under her umbrella when Thor sidestepped a puddle, “And you’re doing underwear shots today, so that can’t happen.”

What? More underwear shoots? He had enough of that during the start of his career!

“Not if I eat a salad or drink a smoothie,” he argued, and Sif gave him a look that all but dared him to try convincing her one more time.

He huffed a little ‘fine’ and left the subject alone.

“This one,” she said, pointing to the building across the street, “That’s where the shoot is.”

It wasn’t very modern or fancy. In fact, it was one of the older buildings. Two stories tall and the bricks had turned a ruddy brown color. Some windows had curtains or blinds while others were just blacked out.

Was this the right place?

They crossed when it was clear for a beat, and Thor held the heavy door open for her before they were settled inside. The building was as old as the outside, and smelled a little weird, but Thor didn’t mind all that much. It was kind of charming, in a gloomy-haunted-with-ghosts kind of way.

“Down the hall,” Sif instructed, brushing a few droplets of water off her coat while Thor shook the umbrella and shrunk it back down to its compact size. Sif stored it away and they made their way down the hall, hearing more and more noise the closer they got.

There were people loitering in what looked like a lobby, dressed semi-formal and Thor was silently thanking Sif for making him wear his blazer today.

“I wonder where Simon is,” Sif murmured, smiling to a few people as they made their way in, even waving excitedly while she lead them through the room. When she stopped to kiss someone on the cheek, Thor was surrounded by people.

“Thor Odinson, correct?”

“Who are you wearing, dear?”

“I didn’t know you were modeling this collection!”

“Tell me, do I have a chance? At all?”

And many more questions that he couldn’t remember.

Honestly, Thor still wasn’t all that used to this attention.  It was beginning to happen at every show now, people coming up to chat about fashion or the line he would be modeling, asking him questions that he really didn’t want to or couldn’t answer. He loved fashion, he really did, but it wasn’t his obsession. It was his job, and one could only love it so much.

He was stuck there with Sif for a bit, answering questions here and there before she finally parted from her friend and said, “I’m sorry, but they’re expecting him backstage now!” and pulled them through the crowd.

He counted himself lucky for not having any sort of anxiety problems.

“Thank you,” Thor breathed in relief, feeling Sif let go of his wrist once they were out of the thick of things.

“It’s partially what I’m here for,” she hummed, and made a small ‘oh!’ once she spotted the director.

“Great, you’re here!” Simon grinned, welcoming them towards the back as they got closer, “Come, come,” he ushered them behind a curtain and Thor felt more at ease at the sight of half-naked people and clothes racks with outfits wrapped in plastic sheaths. This is what he was used to.

“Cindy!” Simon called over a petite redhead who was dressed in all black and looking just a little stressed out. “Thor, Cindy is going to get you dressed and then do your makeup and hair, alright?”

Thor didn’t get a word in before he was being led over to one of the many clothes racks.

He took a look around while he waited for his first choice of attire, seeing both men and women changing into their outfits. The collection was for spring, so there were a lot of bold colours, and outfits were either surprisingly simple or a little complex - but not in a Vivienne Westwood way.

His outfit was of a simpler nature: a baby blue button-up, darker tie, and white trousers with a white belt. “My chair is the third from the back,” Cindy said, blowing out a little bit of air and managing a smile, “Be there in five minutes.” And then she left, disappearing into the hustle and bustle.

Thor glanced down at his outfit again, still wrapped in plastic, and moved to the side to begin changing. It barely bothered him anymore, the whole ‘changing out in the open’ thing; no one stared, so he did the same and didn’t. Everyone was wearing their underwear, anyway. Even if he did accidentally see something, he’d act like he hadn’t. He liked to think himself professional, in that sense.

He adjusted his belt last and left to find Cindy’s chair, brushing his blond hair behind his ear as he looked around. There wasn’t anyone he knew here, but he didn’t really bother to try and make friends at these things. He rarely ever saw the same person at another show.

“Twenty minutes!” Someone yelled just as Thor sat down.

“Great,” Cindy muttered dryly under her breath, looking at Thor and putting a bib-like cover on his chest to save the shirt and tie from the powder she was dusting over his face.

“Stressed?” He asked softly, and the stylist gave a softer laugh in response.

“You think?” She asked, smoothing his eyebrows down with a little wand next.

“What do you do to unwind?”

“Drink.”

“What do you drink?”

“Anything.”

Thor chuckled and they fell silent.

“Gelling your hair back,” she said as she squeezed some product onto her palm, and Thor nodded in response.

He was left alone after that, just standing around with the other finished models, and chatting up a girl with caramel coloured skin and dark hair. She was nice, but as they were called to the set, he forgot her name and they were split up for positioning.

The set was a strange one. It had white pillar-like things set atop a stage with dark flooring. There were spotlights above it all, making it almost _too_ bright, and Thor waited patiently as everyone was put where they were supposed to go.

He ended up leaning against a waist-high pillar by himself. Five minutes later, Cindy was back and she was adjusting his clothes, pushing up his sleeves until they were just under his elbows, and she fixed his hair a little silently. He glanced at her face once before glancing down at the ground again, setting his jaw.

Once he was alone again, he stuffed his hands into his pockets and looked around, watching the other models interact and doing his best to ignore the spectators walking around the set, commenting on different outfits or models. He’d never done a presentation before, so he just did what everyone else was doing: standing around and waiting for instructions.

“Think you could make some room?” A soft, smooth voice asked, and Thor apologized under his breath as he moved over, and looked to see who it was that had decided to join him.

Oh, he really hoped he didn’t look stupid this time.

Loki’s eyebrows ticked up a fraction when their eyes met, perfectly waxed arches on his face that were as dark as his hair. He was wearing dark blue skinny jeans and nothing else, but Thor knew those eyes and cheekbones anywhere.

“Thor Odinson, yeah?” He asked, reaching up to push his ruler-straight hair behind his ear, the chocolate brown colour standing out against his pale skin. His eyelashes were long, darkened with mascara, and his lips painted nude.

“Yeah,” Thor muttered, suddenly feeling his throat dry, “And you’re Loki Laufeyson.”

The Swede smirked, “Of course,” he hummed, leaning back against the pillar, as if showcasing his thin frame, “Are you a fan?”

“No, I’m a model,” Thor replied lamely, and wondered why the hell he did.

Loki’s eyebrows inched higher on his forehead, and the corners of his pink lips tilted up, “Funny.”

Thor wanted to shoot himself in the face.

They were quiet after that. Thor’s palms were a little slick in the pockets of his pants while Loki looked at ease as he glanced around.

He needed to redeem himself from that terrible joke.

 “So…why were you at LA Models?”

Loki turned to him again, brushing his brown hair back once more, delicately, with his soft pink nails, “Contract,” he said simply, Thor finally catching his accent, “My agent and I went to sign that day. Did you see her? Kinda short…very curvy and sassy?”

“Uh, yeah.”  _She eyed me like a piece of meat_.

“Name’s Darcy Lewis, I can introduce you two later,” he said, and Thor gave a quiet nod, “And I’ll warn you now, she bites.”

Thor’s eyebrows rose then, “Thanks, I guess,” he muttered, and Loki gave him a sweet little smile in return.

“Who’s your agent?”

“Sif Sylvan. She was with me, too.”

“Ah,” Loki said, giving a curt nod, “Tall, black hair, pretty?”

“That’s one way of describing her.”

“Oh?” Just one of Loki’s eyebrows ticked up this time, “How would _you_ describe her, then?”

“Stubborn…bossy…won’t let me eat when I want to…” The list went on.

Loki’s lips widened in a little smile again, his green eyes bright with amusement, but he didn’t say anything, because suddenly there was a photographer in front of them and all conversation was cut off for the time being as the presentation started.

\--

They spoke whenever there wasn’t a camera on them, which was rare. Two of the newest and hottest models together in a picture? Of course there were going to be plenty of photos. It would be in every fashion magazine, so Thor did his best to show off the clothes and himself.

“Music?” Loki asked when a camera turned away. The last question had been if they had any pets, and neither did. Traveling kept them from one or two.

“Anything that sounds good,” Thor replied simply, running his hand through his gelled hair when asked by the next photographer, “You?”

Loki smirked at that, looking right into a camera lens, “David Bowie, The White Stripes, Madonna, Dragonette, The Killers…” He trailed off, grabbing at his shoulders as if to cover his non-existent breasts, “To name a few.”

So he liked music. Thor noted that and looked to the other model, who turned his head as well. It was getting easier to talk to Loki, slowly but surely, and he wasn’t sure if those nearly smouldering glances were meant to be flirtatious or not whenever their eyes met.

“How old are you?” He asked, sensing that Loki was quietly waiting for a question.

“Twenty-two.”

“I’m twenty-four.”

“So you’ll die first,” Loki smirked, and Thor cocked a brow at him.

“Not if I strangle you right now.”

“Die young, leave a pretty corpse.”

Thor laughed at that, but their attention was called to another photographer.

When the woman left, Loki spoke again, “Favourite movie?”

“Predator,” Thor muttered, lifting himself up onto the pillar after he tested its strength. It was solid enough to hold him up. “Yes, with Arnold Schwarzenegger,” he continued when Loki gave him a look.

“A Clockwork Orange,” the Swede said, and Thor’s brow furrowed.

“Never heard of it.”

They paused to pose for another picture.

“It’s brilliant. You must watch.”

Thor gave a small nod, but doubted he ever would.

“Maybe we’ll watch it together sometime.”

Hold that thought.

“Oh really?” He asked, eyebrows quirked up on his forehead as he glanced over at Loki, who was smirking up at him.

“Oh yes,” he mocked playfully, and Thor’s lips quirked up in a small smile, “Do you like to cuddle, Odinson?”

Last names, cuddling…Loki was flirting with him, wasn’t he?

Another photographer.

“Sure,” he said afterwards, baiting the slighter man, leaning forward slightly as he pressed his palms to the edge of the pillar, eyeing the topless man. His nipples were small and pink, whenever his hair wasn’t covering them.

Loki’s smile widened, but it only made him look more mischievous, “Fantastic.”

“Why?”

“The movie is three hours long,” Loki laughed.

Ah.

\--

When the models were called backstage to change into their second outfit, Thor silently dreaded it. He’d modeled underwear for every company that made or sold them, from Sears to Diesel, and he had hoped that he would never have to wear a pair of underwear for a photo shoot ever again…

The boxer-briefs were orange with thin red stripes.

Nevertheless, he thanked Cindy softly before going off to the side again to change. He had just stepped out of the white pants when he saw a pair of equally white stilettos on a set of gorgeous legs.

“Is that your outfit?” Loki asked, barely holding back his laughter as he picked up the small plastic package from a chair Thor had placed it on.

“Yes,” Thor muttered, straightening up and eyeing Loki’s thin body in a yellow summer dress. His hair was curled into soft waves this time, although his makeup was still the same subtle shades.

He was gorgeous and Thor hated him for it.

“I’ve never modeled underwear,” Loki hummed, beginning to open it up, “Well, men’s…”

That wasn’t supposed to interest Thor like it did.

“Here,” the Swede handed him the unfolded underwear, and Thor offered him a smile in return.

“Thanks,” he said, and began to pull them on over his current dark briefs. He felt Loki’s eyes on him the whole time, even as he unbuttoned his dress shirt, so he asked: “Do you always watch people undress?”

“Only those who are worth watching,” was the smart reply, and Thor felt as if he was actually going to blush.

This guy was something special.

\--

Luckily, when they returned, the set wasn’t cold, or else Thor would have felt even more awkward standing next to the fully-clothed Swede.

This time around, the models were allowed to roam freely, but most hung around one place and chatted. Thor took his time wandering around the set, giving small, tight smiles to the other models, and gave empathetic ones to the other men and women wearing nothing but underwear.

He sat on one of the pillars that was slightly hidden by another, and leaned back on his arms, trying to drown out the buzzing coming from both the set and the spectators. This presentation thing wasn’t so bad, but he felt like his privacy was being respected less and less as the minutes ticked on. It had been well over two hours, but the time had flown by because of a certain someone.

Loki was getting more and more forward with his flirting every time they spoke. Thor had no idea where he had bounced off to. He had been talking to a girl the last time the blond had seen him.

Loki was interesting, funny, and definitely attractive. Thor could even say he was a little smitten with the other model, as ridiculous as that sounded. It was like they just…connected. They understood each other’s humour, conversation was easy, and if Thor knew any better, he’d say there was something between them already.

Just what, he wasn’t sure.

 “Cold yet, Blondie?”

Loki was back, eyeing Thor almost under his eyelashes as he leaned against the pillar and stared at the half naked model. When had he arrived?

“You know,” Thor sighed, turning onto his side so he could rest on his forearm and look straight at the other male, pausing to stare into his eyes for half a second, “I’ve just about had enough of your sexual harassment,” he said, his eyes gleaming with playfulness, and a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

A grin appeared on Loki’s lips then, showing off his pearly white teeth, and Thor noticed how pointed his canines were, “I didn’t know harmless teasing was considered sexual harassment…” If that wasn’t a purr, Thor didn’t know what was.

But was this _really_ flirting?

“Besides, I know I’m not the only one who’s noticed that you fill out those boxer-briefs _very_ well,” Loki’s lips were lifted in a devilish smirk and if what he said were true, Thor hadn’t noticed anyone. His eyes had been on Loki or camera lens all afternoon.

This was definitely hard core flirting.

So, Thor went in for the kill.

“Do you want to get coffee or something sometime?” He asked softly, moving just a little closer to the other model, hoping for _some_ intimacy despite being surrounded by at least a hundred people and their cameras.

And for some reason, Loki looked surprised. His green eyes were suddenly wide, his lips soft and expressionless, no longer holding that flirtatious smirk. After a moment, he licked his lips and glanced away, “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he murmured, just loud enough for Thor to hear him.

“What?” _What?_ Thor had never been so confused. What the hell had all that flirting been for?

Loki flicked his eyes back to the Norwegian, thin lips parting after a moment, “As lovely as a little date sounds, Thor, I don’t think it’s the best thing for--” The whole room went up in applause then, and the two were startled out of their little moment as they heard the director thanking everyone for coming out to see the presentation. Thor sat up in order to clap his hands, taking his eyes off Loki for a few moments as he scanned the crowd for Sif.

It was over, Sif couldn’t be spotted, and when Thor turned back to Loki, he was gone.  
  
**  
  
The next few weeks after the presentation were busy. Very busy; Thor had over nine different shows to walk, and needless to say, he’d gotten some blisters on his feet from all of the news shoes he had to wear.

It did pay off, though. He was literally paid for all of them, and had met two men he could call new friends. Surprisingly, he’d seen them at three of the same shows. One blond man who was cheery the entire time behind stage, named Fandral, and then Thor met his agent, named Hogun, who was more serious but shared a cigarette outside with Thor when they were cold. They were nice, made Thor laugh, and he had promised to go out for drinks whenever he was free.

He took them out after a Valentino show, to some bar that he’d never been to before, and there they drank until the world was blurry and everything felt right. A pretty woman with brown hair and straight eyebrows had come over, and Thor couldn’t help but to think of Loki right away. This woman, June or Jane or something, wasn’t as pretty as the other model, but she was nice. A little hands-y, but it was perfect for him. He needed to purge the thought of Loki whenever he saw a pretty girl.

They danced on the little stage with other couples, Thor twirling her about and laughing together as she pressed her smaller body close. It was fun, even when she took him back to her apartment and he had accidentally knocked over one of her paintings while they made out against the wall. She’d forgiven him and dragged him towards the bedroom for the rest of the night.

He had a slight hangover the next morning, and she was gone. She had left him a note, telling him to shower if he wanted but she wouldn’t be back due to work, and that she had a great time with him.

He didn’t bother to keep her number.

Instead, he dressed in his clothes from the day before and left her apartment, taking a cab back to his own. There, he showered the smell of sex and sweat from his body and collapsed onto his bed, falling into sleep with his curtains drawn tight.

He slept for an hour before Sif was calling him.

He listened, half asleep, while she scolded him. Apparently he needed to be more careful with what he did in public, since there were pictures of him and the ‘mysterious brunette’ online, leaving the bar hand-in-hand. When asked for an explanation, Thor bluntly told his friend and agent: “We went to her place, had sex, and then I came back home this morning. Don’t worry about it, alright?” But Sif still worried. It was her job to worry. She was doing her best to create a nice image and reputation for her model, and he was off fucking some random girl in response.

“Just make sure you don’t get caught next time,” she muttered, and Thor knew she was pinching the bridge of her nose, “You used protection, right?”

“Always,” Thor muttered, eyes closed as he curled up into himself under the blankets.

“Good,” she sighed, sounding a little more relieved, “Drink lots of water today, you have a show tomorrow. I’ll pick you up at eleven, be ready by then.”

“’kay,” he muttered, and they said their goodbyes before Thor was asleep again.

\--

Thor had fucked up his sleeping pattern a little, so he was up around five the next morning, utterly bored for the next few hours. Sif had picked him up at the promised time, and they took another cab downtown.

She explained that this show was for Chanel, and both men and women were walking the Spring/Summer collection. Thor couldn’t rid of the little ‘maybe Loki will be here’ that hung around the back of his mind every time he arrived at a new show. Apparently trying to purge the thought of the androgynous man didn’t work; if anything, it only fuelled the desire to see him again.

Once he and Sif arrived (they went backstage to avoid the crowds of people), he was lead to the back with the other models, and given his suit. As per usual, he made his way over to the ‘dressing corner’, as it had been dubbed by himself and Fandral.

And the moment he had his shirt off, he felt eyes on him. He knew when someone was staring because _no one_ ever looked at others while they were backstage and changing.

So, he looked up, just in time to see Loki’s smirk, his wicked lips painted a dark purple. His green eyes were smoked with black makeup, making him look more feline as he stared at Thor’s half-naked state. He was just a few feet away, wearing a tight, cream coloured dress, with a beautiful jeweled collar. His hair was braided over his shoulder in a fishtail braid and had yet to slip his feet into a pair of heels, making him just so much shorter than the six-foot-three Norwegian.

Thor almost backed away while he watched Loki walk over, blue eyes appreciating the way his hips swayed.

“Well, well, look who we have here…”

**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So after literally two weeks, I get another chapter out for you lovelies~
> 
> Thank you so so SO much for the kudos and bookmarks and comments and hits!! They mean so much to my little Canadian heart, just like my lovely little pumpkin ThatJotunPoleDancer, who's been the best by editing this chapter for me, as well as the first! I'd be nowhere without her c:
> 
> And because I'll be eternally grateful if you do (and I promise to return the favour), please follow me on [Tumblr](http://poochee.tumblr.com/)! 
> 
> Outfits for this chapter:  
> [Thor’s CK outfit](http://www.gq.com/style/blogs/the-gq-eye/calvin-klein03.jpg)  
> [Loki’s CK Summer Dress](http://images.asos.com/inv/media/4/5/6/5/1985654/image2xxl.jpg)  
> [Thor’s Silly Pants](http://cdn03.cdn.socialitelife.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/11/benjamin-eidem-male-model-11232011-09-430x619.jpg)  
> [Loki's Chanel dress](http://cdni.condenast.co.uk/592x888/Shows/SS2012/Paris/Couture/alexander_vauthier/00110big_592x888.jpg)


	3. Chapter 3

Kitten On the Catwalk   
Spring 2012

Loki wakes feeling like his brain is too big for his skull. He wants to bash his face into the nearest and sturdiest surface, which would be the bedside table of some girl’s apartment. He flips his chocolate hair from his sleepy face and sees that the blonde is faced down on her side of the bed, snoring lightly.

She was a lovely girl and they had a lovely time, but Loki didn’t feel….satisfied. There was something inside of him that wasn’t sated, like another smoldering pit of lust was there, unable to be put out by anything, and it was, quite frankly, pissing him off.

It had been like this for two or three weeks, and none of the five people Loki had slept with did anything to curb his appetite.

It was annoying.

So, like always, he carefully slides from the bed and began to gather his clothes as quickly as he can despite a pounding headache. He skips the dark blue tights and just pulls his dress on, frowning to himself as he hears a soft moan from the bed. He ignores it and zips himself up, running his fingers through his hair as he heads to the bathroom, stumbling over the jeans and t-shirt Maria or Mary or Margaret had worn. To think that _he_ would be the one to wear the dress at a bar and not the actual women is almost laughable.

Then again, he prefers to sleep with girls who don’t look as great as him in a dress and heels combo. Not like there are many, of course.

He swishes with mouthwash he finds beneath the sink and relieves his bladder, smirking to himself as he lifts the front of his dress in order to do so.

Once he has his boots on, he grabs his coat from the ground and checks his phone through a squinted gaze, brows knitted as he reads the texts from Darcy and one of his brothers. Helblindi wants to do lunch this weekend and Darcy’s reminding him to be at home by noon so they can get ready for the Chanel show.

Right.

He pockets his phone and does up his dark grey peacoat one button at a time, then leaves without another word.

\--

He can’t help but to reflect on the happenings of last night, remember meeting the pretty blonde with a pixie cut at some after party that he attended. They had flirted and enjoyed themselves, and she had invited him back to her place to enjoy themselves further.

It was sex the second they walked through the door, up against the wall and then the bed, and they promptly passed out afterwards. That was slightly embarrassing, but he had too much to drink. Thus, the hangover.

“I want to die,” the Swede mutters into his phone pathetically, in the back of the cab and holding his head in his hand.

“I bet you even look like a whore,” Darcy chimes in like she usually does, being awfully chipper. So much that he wants to punch her in the face through the phone.

But, she’s right. He has his tights bundled up in his coat pocket and couldn’t find his underwear so he’s gone without. It’s _very_ cold and drafty. He feels sorry for his balls.

“I do,” he whines softly, lifting his head and resting his temple against the window’s cool glass, eyes closed as Darcy begins to go all business on him and talk about the show.

Apparently there’s no men’s clothes for him tonight and that upsets him the slightest bit. This dress put him off this morning…but, if it’s Chanel, he’ll deal.

“So, how was your night?” Darcy asks casually, knowing full well what he did, as always. She does this every time and Loki’s come to expect it.

“It was good,” he sighs, rubbing at his eyes and craving some coffee.

“Why don’t I believe you?”

“Because I’m not satisfied.”

“Why not? Got your dick wet, didn’t you?”

Darcy could be so crude when she wanted to be. “Yes, I did,” he mutters with a frown.

“So why aren’t you ‘fulfilled’?”

He’s quiet for a moment, eyes closed as he tries to think, and all that comes up is Thor Odinson.

Fuck.

“Don’t know,” he lies softly.

Darcy gasps suddenly, “Maybe this is a sign that you need to settle down! You know, have _meaningful_ , _intimate_ sex with someone.”

“You’re kidding.” Loki loves sleeping with different people. It’s a surprise and he always learns something new from the experiences. Plus, he’s being safe, so what’s the big fuss?

“I was just saying,” she waved it off, and Loki could imagine her arm waving around in front of her.

“Right, well, I’m going to go die up in my apartment after I shower this whorish feeling off,” he manages a smirk when Darcy laughs, “I’ll be ready by noon, I promise.”

“Alright, see you then, hot pocket.”

“Bye.”

\--

He hasn’t been able to get rid of the blond man from his thoughts ever since they met last month, and it’s really starting to grate on his nerves. Every single show he goes to, Loki’s always trying to single Thor out in the crowd, to go over and chat him up, but he’s never there.

It kind of pisses him off, but he’s usually at women’s shows, so what did he expect?

Nonetheless, he’s annoyed how Thor keeps slipping into his thoughts on an almost daily basis. He’s tried sleeping with another man who sort-of-not-really looked like the other, but all that did was made Loki call out ‘Thor’ just before his orgasm and an awkward tension between him and the man for the rest of the night.

Poor Th--Derek. His name was Derek.

And even now, sitting in the backseat of a cab with Darcy, he can’t help thinking of Thor when she mentions it’s a men’s and women’s show.

He never mentions Thor to Darcy, unless she points out a billboard or underwear package to him while they shop.

Why can’t he enjoy sex with everyone else without having Thor pop into his mind?

“I should have gotten that hair mask,” Darcy mutters as she reaches over to feel Loki’s smooth brown locks.

“I look like Kate Middleton,” he mutters, playing Angry Birds on his phone to pass the time.

They just had a spa date and Loki had a hair mask and massage while Darcy got a manicure and pedicure. He wonders why she got a pedicure in the winter, but says nothing.

“Kate Middleton is hot!” She argues, playing with the curled ends of Loki’s hair, “Besides, all the damage is pretty much gone…I think we can get your hair coloured at the end of the month.”

“Again?”

“Yeah, I was thinking of black or purple.”

Loki snorts, “Those are two completely different colours.”

“Yeah, I know. I think you’d look good in both.”

“How about a...eggplant-y colour?”

“Oh my god, that’s beautiful, why didn’t I think of that?” She makes a note on her phone about it. “I told Igor.”

Igor’s been Loki’s hairstylist for almost a year now, and Loki loves him. He really takes care of his hair.

“Igor’s excited about it.”

Loki smiles and gets a high score.

\--

They’re ten minutes early when arriving at the show, and even then, it’s busy as hell. People are rushing around in the back, speaking into their headsets and a few other models are already being fitted into their clothes.

Loki’s pulled in by the arm and Darcy says a quick ‘text me later!’ before she’s gone, too.

The dress he’s given is _gorgeous_ and leaves him breathless. It’s so simple yet chic, the jeweled collar so beautifully done. It fits like a glove, too, cinching at his thin waist perfectly.

His hair and makeup is done expertly, a bib laid over his chest and shoulders as he chats idly to the makeup artist. They don’t talk about much, just about the weather and movies, and Loki doesn’t have the heart to flirt with her. Well, he does, but he’s so caught up in his own mind that he’s actually friendly and doesn’t give a hint that he’s interested at all.

He usually gives everyone a chance, regardless of their gender. If they chose to have one, of course. It sort of pisses him off how most people can’t understand his sexuality. Perhaps it’s because he doesn’t give a clear image or meaning; he usually just says ‘love is love, lust is lust, it shouldn’t matter what’s between a person’s legs’.

It only causes people to talk more, but he loves the attention, so he doesn’t mind.

“There you are,” the other brunette smiles as she finishes up Loki’s fishtail braid, throwing it over his shoulder playfully.

“Thank you,” he smiles back at her in the mirror, his green eyes smoked with black eyeshadow, cheekbones enhanced by a little bit of contouring, and his lips a dark purple. He even asks her what brand it’s from, and he stores the information in his cell phone once he goes back to get it from his coat pocket.

Once he locks it and hands it back to the girl, he catches a head of blond hair, and his stomach knots slightly at the immediate thought.

He allows himself to turn and look over at the corner.

And it’s _Thor_ , muscles and all. He’s changing, of course, but it doesn’t make Loki avert his eyes as usual. Instead, he’s staring openly, a smirk pulling at his dark lips as he watches those muscles move under tanned skin.

The blond looks up after a moment, and the look on Thor’s face is absolutely wonderful. His cheeks are flushed pink, his shirt wrapped around his arms as he stares at Loki, as if he were some divine intervention that either floated down from heaven or clawed his way up from the pits of hell.

Loki loves it. He needs to tease him.

So, he begins to make his way over, keeping the devilish look on his face as he purrs, “Well, well, look who we have here…”

Thor still says nothing and it excites Loki like nothing else. Gathering his bearings and nerve, he continues, “What, did you forget me already, Odinson?” He asks smoothly, pouting his lower lip comically as he approaches the Norwegian, having to actually look _up_ at him. There’s a couple of inches that would easily be filled with a pair of heels. “I had hoped on having a bigger impression on you…”

That seems to get the blond talking, but he’s gaped like a fish for a half a second before clearing his throat, “No, no--I…I remember you…” Those blue eyes are taking in the dress, admiring the way it narrows his already thin waist, and Loki loves it.

This isn’t how not-rivals act, but hey, Loki isn’t exactly complaining.

“Oh, good,” a smirk finds its way onto his purple lips again, and then those electric blues meet his emerald and Loki just can’t look away. They are the bluest eyes he has ever seen, and it’s ridiculous because he’s surrounded by blue eyes most of the time, yet Thor’s are always the most vibrant and lively. Like a bolt of lightning. Those eyes shock Loki to his very core, shake him and maybe make his knees feel weak.

Loki hates him for it.

“This is what you’re wearing?” Loki asks after an uncertain amount of time, clearing his throat softly as he breaks the eye contact and walks around Thor, to look at the suit folded on a few hangers.

Thor nods and presses his lips together, turning around and admiring Loki’s dress from the back, “Yes, I think I get three outfits this time….it’s a big show, isn’t it?” Like the hustle and bustle around them didn’t speak for itself.

“Obviously, you dunce,” Loki smirks, throwing the American-Norwegian-whatever-he-is a playful look, “It’s Chanel’s spring collection, anyone with an inkling of fashion knowledge is going to eat it up.” He takes the shirt from the packaging and holds it out to Thor.

He takes it and began to change, ignoring Loki’s stares by glancing over to the makeup stations.

And while he did that, Loki had to wonder: had Thor always looked so delectable? Had his biceps always been that big? Something about him tonight looked…different. A very good different. Loki wants to both slap him across the face and suck his cock.

If that makes any kind of sense.

“So, what’s up with the disappearing act at the CK presentation?”

Loki blinks away his most-likely hungry look as he redirects his gaze to the handsome face that the Adonis body’s attached to, and just has to process the question for a moment. Disappearing act, CK presentation…—oh, right.

This was a conversation he never wanted to have. Ever. Still, he manages a little sheepish look as he puts Thor’s outfit onto a nearby hook, smoothing his dress down as he spoke: “It felt like the right thing to do. At the time.” Bull. Shit.

Even Thor doesn’t look convinced, sizing up the other model with those _damned_ blue eyes, “Is it some weird Swedish way to show affection or something?” He pauses and adds as an afterthought, “I was pretty disappointed by it.”

Oh. “Well, I’m here now, aren’t I?” He asks airily, crossing his arms over his chest, “The chances of us meeting again aren’t exactly slim…” Loki never apologizes for anything. He knew going on a little date with Thor would do nothing but harm for them both, so he took the necessary precautions. Guilty or not, he was sticking with that reasoning.

Thor presses his lips together and watches Loki for a moment, and the Swede almost squirms. _Almost_.

“Right.” Is all Thor mutters before beginning to remove his pants, and damn those thighs of his, too!

Loki decides it’s a great time to disappear again.

\--

But he’s not gone for too long. Thor attracts him like a damned moth to a flame for some bizarre reason, and Loki already can’t get enough of him, despite never actually having Thor. Yet.

He went to get a cup of water once he realized that he was warm not only from Thor’s hot bod, but because all of these bodies crammed into the building, it was making it a hundred degrees backstage.

The next time he finds Thor, the blonde’s in a makeup chair like he had been half an hour before, being powdered and blotted. It was even hotter back here, and Loki’s definitely feeling the heat now.

“You look flushed,” Thor murmurs after a moment, glancing over at Loki before closing his eyes again as the powder is dusted over his brow.

“I’m sweating like a whore in church,” he breathes in response, fanning himself a little with his free hand, but it does nothing. A snort is heard from the makeup artist and Loki huffs, hoping that the show would begin soon. Or if he could go stand outside for a bit, he craves for a cigarette.

Thor opens his eyes once again, and he stares at Loki for a moment. Again. What’s up with that, anyway?

“What, something on my dress? Makeup’s smudged?” Loki finally snaps, feeling a little irritable from the heat and waiting around he’s forced to do. 

Thor only averts his gaze and mutters a ‘no’, parting his lips slightly so the woman in front of him can swipe his lips with a darker pink color.

He looks gorgeous and Loki wants to climb into his lap.

Thankfully, they’re called to line up, and Loki waits for Thor to be let go before leading them away.

\--

“Are you wearing any men’s clothes? For this show?”

“I don’t think so…” Loki has to think for a moment, pressing his lips together as he eyes the ground, shifting his weight between his high heels as he tries to remember what Darcy had said earlier. “No.” He saw nothing but dresses on that rack, anyway.

“I’d like to see you in a suit.”

“I’d like to see you without this suit.” Loki plucks his chest and oh, those pecs.

Thor watches him for a moment, an unsure look on his face, and Loki was _this_ close to telling him in the flattest tone and most serious face: ‘I’m flirting with you and I want your dick’. Luckily, a small smirk tugs at Thor’s lips and they share a look that makes Loki’s stomach squirm pleasantly.

Music interrupts them, and Loki says a soft ‘later’ to Thor before he’s off to his original spot in the woman’s line.

\--

Loki loves the feeling that comes with walking down the runway. It’s a euphoria no drug could ever give him.

With every long stride comes a power, a feeling of completion, and it’s like he’s weightless. If it weren’t for his stony expression, it’d probably shows on his face with a small knowing smirk on his purple-painted lips. A secret he shares with himself and the cameras, his stride never faulting as he pauses then turns, heading back to the start so he can be rushed into the back and changed. Makeup, hair, then he’s back in the lineup for a second hit.

The camera flashes are always blinding in the best of ways. He can feel eyes on him, know there’s murmurs of his sex or gender, but he feeds off of it. He loves keeping people guessing. It’s beautiful and empowering.

He’s rushed to the back once he’s off stage and he’s having the dress unzipped as he walks, unhooking the collar before it’s peeled from his bony body and he’s given a new dress. It’s white and long, like a halter without the front, backless and beautiful. Fashion tape is put on the strips covering his chest, and it’s useless because he has no breasts, but he allows it and lifts his chin when a gold choker is put around his neck. He feels like an Egyptian Queen. Especially when he’s given gold pointed-toe pumps to wear, and he slips them onto his blistered feet before heading over to the makeup stations again.

It’s always a blur back here once the show starts. You have to be quick and there’s rarely a moment of peace until you’re in line again. He’s sat in the chair and given another bib, securing it around his neck while the artist is touching up his makeup and dusting his face with powder to get rid of the shine.

His hair is taken from the braid and slicked back into a tail, strays are tamed with pomade before he’s taking the bib off and heading back to the lineup.

And like it’s an act of fate, Thor is there, dressed in a grey blazer and tight black pants that show off his ass amazingly. It’s like its’ been sculpted by the gods themselves.

And the way his blue eyes roam over Loki’s body isn’t helping his intoxicated state, either.

Loki speaks first, “Like it?” He asks coyly, his own eyes drawn to the golden skin of Thor’s chest. The first two buttons of his shirt are undone and it’s the biggest distraction of the night.

Thor manages a little nod before their eyes connect and Loki steps closer to him, a little smile playing on his lips as the taller man doesn’t move away. Loki’s got him under a spell and it’s _wonderful_.

“I’m impressed with your ability to undress so quickly,” Thor murmurs when Loki invades his personal space a little more, challenging him.

One of Loki’s brows tick up, “Creep.”

“You were walking by!”

“You didn’t have to watch me.”

“It was sort of hard _not_ to…”

Oh?

It was time to step this up a notch, see if they were on the same page. “What? Jealous that you couldn’t undress me yourself?”

There’s a flickering of _something_ in Thor’s eyes, and he’s taking in Loki’s outfit once more, a sweeping gaze that sparks something in Loki’s stomach that he hasn’t felt in a very long time. When their eyes connect again, Thor’s tongue runs along his lower lip and he murmurs, “…I shouldn’t respond to that.”

No, he really shouldn’t, but Loki wants him to. He wants big, muscular, handsome Thor to peel the tightest dress off of him after the show, kiss every bump of bone under his skin as he did, and suck on every inch of revealed skin he passed. He wants Thor to admit to wanting him, to whisper in his ears how hard he was going to fuck him, to kiss behind his ear and on his neck—he wants _Thor_.

And Thor wants him. It’s obvious in his eyes.

“Well,” the brunet murmurs, taking yet another step closer to Thor until their chests almost touch, suddenly grateful for the dim lighting by the stage, “I wouldn’t exactly _mind_ if you tried to…” He trails his fingertip down the infuriating bit of Thor’s exposed chest slowly, and a smile twitching at the corners of his lips as he felt the other man’s hand on his hip, gripping it tightly. Perfect.

“Loki Laufeyson! How _dare_ you show your beautiful face around here, you know this is my show!”

Well, almost perfect.

Loki was off Thor faster than a blink, and turns easily with his lips stretched into a fake smile to match the one on the woman just a few feet from of them. She came right over in her heels, her asymmetrical dress the color of Loki’s lips.

“You know very well it’s no use trying to keep me away,” he smirks, staring at the blonde who had rather full eyebrows.

She grins at him and laughs, smacking his thin arm playfully before her eyes flicker to Thor. She does a double take before gasping, “Who is _this_?” And all but pushes the Swede aside, taking a step closer to Thor and looking up at him with slight awe in her dark green eye. “What a selfish man you are, Loki, keeping this hunk of a man all to yourself,” she shoots Loki a look over her small shoulder, who quirks a brow, before sizing up the muscled man in front of her.

Thor was quiet, possibly waiting for both his shock to pass and for Loki to introduce them, but there was no way he was going to do that. Introduce Thor to his real, living, breathing rival? No. Way.

But the dunce took it upon himself to do so.

“Thor Odinson,” he greets with a smile, offering the other blonde his hand, and she takes it into her greedy little claws happily.

“Amora Incantare,” she purrs, looking up at him through her false eyelashes.

Thor’s eyebrows shoot up a bit, “Amora? That’s a beautiful name, I’ve never heard it before.”

Fuck Thor and his charms.

She grins up at him again and dared to look bashful, “Well, you’ve heard it now,” she giggles, taking her hand back to herself and smiling up at Thor.

Loki’s fuming.

Amora Incantare is utterly gorgeous; she and everyone who knew her knew it. She was named Top Female Model last year, a title Loki had no right to, but that didn’t mean he didn’t want it. She was like him, craving recognition and fame, and technically had more of a pull than he did. It didn’t matter how many blows you swallowed or who you bent over for, if you didn’t have breasts and vagina, you weren’t a woman. Loki accepted that with a grudge, even if at times he felt like the opposite sex, but decided to use his androgyny to his advantage.

Recently he’s learnt this lesson: shock the nation and you’ll be famous.

But, Amora’s special. She makes everyone around her ugly with just a smile, has enough energy to power the Empire State Building, and is the cheekiest little fuck Loki has ever met. She’s like the female version of Thor, really. Loki had also wanted to fuck her brains out once, when they had first met, but now she’s just competition with fierce eyebrows.

And with the eyes she’s making at the muscled blond in front of her, Loki decides that he isn’t handing Thor over to her anytime soon like he had in the past.

To be quite honest, Loki got around. He knows it, and isn’t ashamed. He enjoys sex with different people regularly, just like her, but it just so happens that she’s a woman and therefore, people looked down at her for it, for taking charge of her own pleasure and sexuality. That’s the only part of him that sympathizes with her. They’re the same kind of people: passionate, driven, successful. Loki just has a dick.

Another lesson learnt: double standards are a bitch.

But presently, if Thor had been anyone else but Thor, Loki would have happily handed him over to her. She was competition, sure, but he respected her. She worked just as hard as he did and deserved any good times that presented themselves to her.

Unfortunately for her, Thor was Thor, and therefore, she couldn’t have him.

The female models are suddenly called and Loki takes that opportunity to break them up, “Amora, come, they’re calling us,” he intervened their little conversation by reaching forward and taking her arm, all but dragging the blonde away as she said a hurried goodbye to her newest victim.

Once they were far enough, “Jesus, if you want to suck his dick so badly, why don’t you just drop to your knees already,” he mutters as she yanks her arm back, rolling her eyes at him as they walk.

“I’m sure you’ve done that enough times already for the both of us,” she smirks, eyeing her rival appreciatively.

“Not yet,” he hums as he gets into position in front of her. He fits right into the lineup, feminine features enhanced by makeup and outfit.

Amora’s eyebrow tick up in surprise, “Really?”

He doesn’t like that tone, “You’re surprised?”

“Yeah, I thought you would have bounced on his dick five times now, you’ve known of him long enough.”

That actually makes him snort, and they both begin to laugh before Loki looks at her from over his shoulder, “Give it time, Amora,” he hums, then eyes her for a moment, “And stay away from him.”

She smirks back at him, “No promises.”

\--

Loki figures out why tonight Thor’s suddenly (or not so suddenly) so attractive: he hasn’t been fucked properly in weeks.

Last night had been a great time, he knew that, but it didn’t do anything for him other than offer release. She had been beautiful and very willing, but it just…didn’t work out like it usually did. It’s been like that for a while, now that he thinks about it.

And he’s hoping that one night with Thor will change that. Just a taste of that blond will hopefully sate him enough to enjoy sex with everyone else, and the world will be set right again.

Loki doesn’t expect Amora to stay away from Thor at all, knowing her tendencies to try and fuck everyone before him just to say that he got her sloppy seconds. She was irritating like that, and therefore, Loki has to have Odinson before her.

It was yet again another competition between them.

\--

The second time he comes backstage to change, he tries not to look for either of them. He needs to keep his head clear, to focus on _not_ falling on the runway and embarrassing the hell out of himself, so therefore, no distractions.

But distractions always seem to find him.

“Sometimes you look so much like a woman, I forget that you’re a man under all that lipstick,” Thor mutters as he approaches his newfound friend, who’s slipping his feet into strappy black heels.

Loki’s never been offended by such comments, so he gives Thor a sickly sweet smile as he pulls his hair from the tail, “Yes, well, if you take off this dress, you’ll very clearly see that I’m a man,” he hums, shaking his brown wavy hair down his shoulders and back.

“You must be _really_ cock hungry to be flirting with me so much,” Thor smirks, and oh, Loki’s eyebrows shoot up and he’s almost choking on air because he’s not going to laugh as much as he wants to.

It takes him a moment to compose himself, lips pressed together and eyes bright as Thor takes another step closer, until their chests are hovering again.

“I’m pretty sure I’m not the only one who’s, _ahem_ , ‘cock hungry’,” Loki finally manages, trying the new phrase on his tongue. It was a lot better than being called a ‘man-whore’, that’s for sure.

The blond considers the thought for a moment, blue eyes boring into Loki’s pale face that was barely caked with makeup anymore. One of the stylists has taken the smoky eye off and replaced it with neutral tones, aside from his ever-purple lips.  
  
Nevertheless, Thor’s staring at his lips and Loki leans in to him a little more, intentions to tease, “Don’t say ‘yes’ if you can’t say ‘no’,” he whispers smartly, a small smirk playing at his lips and Thor pinches his ass through the dress in retaliation, eliciting a small yelp.

Loki’s going to have him before the end of the night.

**

If Thor were to be honest, he would admit to being a little confused. Loki’s been a flirt to him almost every single time they’ve spoken to one another, yet he keeps…disappearing. Is he even _real_ at this point?

Still, there’s no point in denying that he wants that insufferable pain in the ass. Badly. And Loki seems to want the same.

And to prove it, when Loki passes Thor in the male lineup to get to the woman’s, the brunet makes sure their eyes are connected the entire time, even daring to lick his lips and bite the lower one teasingly. Thor’s jaw clenches before the other is out of sight and he _knows_ that Swedish bastard is grinning to himself.

Thor’s fallen into his little trap and can probably never get out.  
  
\--  
  
The last time he comes off the runway, Thor is ready to leave. He feels and probably looks antsy, fidgeting with the black jacket he has on before he just sheds it completely, going over to the clothes racks and getting his street clothes back to change.

He’s pulling up his pants when Loki walks by, hips swaying and arms full of his own clothes.

Now, he knew it was looked down upon when you watched another model change backstage. It went against every moral he had, against every belief he had since he began in the industry…

But he’s pretty damn sure Loki’s doing a striptease.

He’s pulled his long hair over his shoulder delicately, and in a show of flexibility, unzipped his own dress smoothly. The black lacy thing is and was beautiful on him, and Thor couldn’t help but watch as Loki rolls his shoulders and pulls the long sleeves off his thin arms, eyes downcast as he began to carefully push it down his hips. He’s so fluid in his movements, his hair brushing across porcelain skin, the hint of his ribs poking against his skin as he stretched, those sharp hipbones that Thor just wanted to have in a crushing grip…

And when Loki stepped out his dress, Thor saw that he really is a man. The bulge in front of his beige coloured panties said it all, and despite everything, Thor felt a stirring between his thighs at the sight.

Then, Loki’s walking away, quickly handing a woman the dress with a small smile before he goes back to his little spot a few feet away. The Swede’s turned to face him, watching Thor from his changing spot and wiggling his small hips as he pulls his tight pants up his legs. The tension is thick between them; Loki _knows_ he had a small audience of one during his little show, and now Thor can taste his lust on his tongue like the smoke from a cigarette.

Oh, what he wouldn't do for a drag right now.

Apparently Loki has the same thought, and Thor's just pulling his plain shirt down his torso when the Swede walks over and asks, "Do you want to go out back and share a cigarette?"

Thor doesn't hesitate to accept the offer, and Loki's grabbing his hand the same time he turns to lead them away from everyone else to gather their coats and slip on their shoes.

Outside and bundled up, the wind isn't strong, barely blowing by in a breeze as their shoes crunch over the snow as they walk. There's a few people out here as well, leaning against the brick wall and smoking, but they stay away, not wanting anyone's conversation except their own.

"Haven't cum in your pants yet, have you?" Loki asks casually as he places a cigarette between Thor's lips delicately, lighting it for him as the Norwegian inhales. It’s a sweet gesture, and Thor savours it.

He holds the smoke in his lungs for a moment, relishing the burn as he lets Loki take the cig from him. He's blowing it out of his nose like a dragon after a moment, "Not until you say I can," he breaths, just to humour him as the rest of the poisonous smoke pours from his lips.

The Swede smirks as he takes a drag, "Good boy," he murmurs, amusement lighting their eyes as they stare at one another.

They share the cigarette quietly, watching one another like they have all night, green eyes sharp and blue dreamy. It's a silent conversation, filled with nothing but looks of 'I want you' and returned 'I know, I want you to have all of me'. It makes Thor's chest hurt for some reason, and fills his mind with a fog.

Thor can't remember wanting someone so badly in his life and Loki wonders if it'll all be worth it.

When their cigarette dies down to a butt and their silence has stretched on for centuries, Thor takes it from Loki's purple-painted lips and tosses it into the snow, wrapping his strong arms around the thinner man and pressing their lips together for the first time.

It was a night of teasing and seduction; secret looks and smiles, lingering touches and coy flirting. They're bundled up in coats and scarves outside the back of a building and everything but Loki's lips are cold. Their mouths slide together, eyes closed as they savour each other, tongues timid at first before they're coaxing one another into their mouths. Loki sucks on the tip of his tongue and suddenly Thor's not so cold anymore.

"Take me home," Loki whispers against the blond's lips, and he says it so sweetly; Thor wonders if he's wanted this for a while.

He doesn't ask. Instead, he squeezes Loki's thin waist in a silent promise before he's leading them away, towards the street for a cab.

\--

Thor doesn’t give Sif a second thought until she’s texting him, asking him where he is, and he’s too busy trying to keep Loki’s hand from going down his pants in the back of a cab to really answer her.

Apparently Loki doesn’t care about his agent, either, as his phone is away and he hasn’t touched it since they left the show. He somehow manages to grip Thor through his boxer-briefs, and a soft groan builds from the blond’s throat before Loki swallows it with a kiss.  
  
\--

The key is having a tough time fitting into the lock.

“If you don’t hurry the fuck up, I’m going to blow you right here in this hallway.”

Thor manages a smirk as he tries the other key, “I don’t see how that’s a threa--” His breath hitches when Loki sucks a spot on his neck just under his ear.

It’s _really_ difficult to open a door when you have a rather horny man pressed and squished against it and yourself, with a thin leg wrapped around your hip while he’s biting and sucking bruises into your skin at the same time.

Thor decides to deal with it and finally opens the door to his apartment, both of them stumbling in and laughing before Loki pulls him into another searing kiss, like the many they shared in the elevator coming up.

The trek to the bedroom is quick, it’s right across the front door, but that doesn’t mean it’s easy. They’re pulling at each other’s clothes in between deep, desperate kisses, moaning and growling in frustration when Thor won’t lift up his _goddamn arms_. Thor’s pushed Loki onto the bed and is pulling off those tight jeans, all while the bastard laughs and attempts to unbutton them first, telling Thor to ‘wait’ under his breath. It’s no use, of course, because Thor throws them aside, socks going along with it.

He spreads Loki’s legs and settles between them with a huff, feeling fingers in his hair when he begins to mouth at the hard curve in Loki’s panties, drawing out a long and low moan from the brunet. Loki growls and rolls his hips up, grinding a little against Thor’s face, and Thor chuckles before ripping the last article of clothing from his body. From there, he just stares. He takes in the soft skin and harsh bones that protrude from under it, creating the softest curves he’s ever seen on another man. The light dusting of hair between Loki’s hips is a light blond and his cock is nearly as pretty as the rest of him. Thor’s in a trance, and Loki takes that time to wrap his legs around the other model’s waist and switch their positions with a little momentum.

“You’re too fucking slow,” he breaths as he sits back on Thor’s thighs, quickly and expertly undoing his pants before pulling them down roughly and letting Thor kick them off the rest of the way. He crashes their lips together and runs his hands over every inch of Thor’s muscles, gripping at the large biceps and smoothing a palm down his firm stomach. Jesus H. Christ.

He grips Thor through his underwear again, feels the thickness of his cock and nearly cums right then and there. Thick and heavy and all _his_. He pulls away to ask about a condom when Thor sits up, manhandling Loki to wrap his thin legs around his waist, and then they’re off the bed for a second before they’re in a much better position near the centre of the bed.

Loki has no idea what just happened, but now he’s underneath the muscles and he can’t bring himself to complain. Although, he does nip at Thor’s pec with his teeth as the other man reaches over to his bedside drawer, drawing out a soft half-laugh, half-hiss.

A small packet and a small tube is set on Loki’s chest within the next moment and the Swede feels himself become jittery. It’s happening, Thor and his huge cock are going to fuck him, and why the hell does Thor keep _staring_.

“What,” Loki breaths, glaring up at the other model before taking the two things on his chest into his hands, “Expect me to do _everything_?”

Thor licks his lips and smirks in response, ducking his head to kiss at Loki’s chest while the brunet makes a little frustrated noise and begins to rip open the square package with his teeth. He chokes on a moan when Thor’s teeth finds his nipples, his cock twitching against his lower stomach as they’re worried and sucked between Thor’s perfect lips and tongue.

He pants Thor’s name and finally catches his attention, looking up at the Swede curiously, and Loki takes that time to roll them once again. Thor grunts as he lands on his back, but doesn’t complain when Loki tugs off his underwear for him and grabs the base of his flushed cock. He hears Loki muttering under his breath while he rolls the condom down his shaft slowly, making sure it’s snug against the base before pinching the tip and leaning forward wrap his lips around it.

Thor’s never liked getting head with a condom on, but he respects the precautions and moans into the air, tilting his head back as Loki stuffs more of the length into his hot mouth, sucking around the plastic sheath and moaning low in his throat. His lips are stretched wide around it, the skin around his mouth smeared slightly with his purple lipstick, and he’s gagging softly as he presses down too far, and Thor feels his stomach tensing every time he bumps the back of Loki’s throat.

With his cock slick and ready, Loki lifts his mouth off and moves to sit on Thor’s stomach, his own cock flushed and hard as could be. He licks his lips as he gazes down at Thor, green eyes bright and blown with arousal while he’s reaching for the lube and putting it in the blond’s hand.

“Now you do me…”

He has Loki flipped onto his back within seconds, pale fingers curling into the bedding beneath him as Thor slicks three fingers and presses one in without hesitation. A brief look of discomfort flashes across the brunet’s face at the intrusion before he’s bearing down on the digit, rocking and rolling his hips as he attempts to adjust with soft huffs of breath.

It doesn’t take him long, and soon he’s biting his lip and moaning as Thor presses another finger into him, curling and rubbing against the velvet walls in search of that one little spot. He finds it when Loki moans and bucks his hips, squeezing Thor’s waist with his thighs as he pants for ‘ _more, Thor, you fucking--_ ’ under his breath. Thor likes how lippy Loki gets, so he teases him a bit more until the Swede reaches over his shoulders and scratches down his back angrily, growling another language under his tongue as Thor grunts from the pain.

He works the third finger into Loki and abuses his prostate relentlessly, which has the brunet hissing and crying out as he arches his back, the tension rising between them before Loki snaps, “Fucking give it to me already, you useless bastard!”

So, he flips Loki onto his belly and the Swede adjusts onto his knees quickly as he feels the blond getting comfortable between his thighs, pushing his hips back as Thor’s tip prods at his hole, and both moan as he pushes past the resisting muscle.

Loki takes the rest like a champ, gathering the duvet in his arms before burying his face into it as he moans through every inch that slides into him. He’s so full to burst and he loves every second of it, whining in his throat as he reaches down to tug himself in time with Thor’s experimental thrusts. No one’s ever filled him so much, never reached so deep, and for half a second he’s worried that he’s ruined for anyone else.

But as soon as Thor begins to really thrust as he finds a rhythm, pushing Loki’s slim thighs apart and pounding into him, watching the way Loki spreads over his cock, the Swede begins to cry out shouting ‘yes, yes, _yes’_ and ‘fuck _me’_ and Thor never realized how loud this guy would be. So, in attempts to fix it, he pulls Loki back onto his cock, earning him a shout, and Thor wraps an arm around the smaller man’s chest to heave him up so they’re both on their knees.

“Shut up,” he breathes into Loki’s ear, nipping at the lobe and Loki just gives a throaty chuckle before he’s reaching back to tangle the fingers of one hand in blond hair, turning his head to pull Thor into another messy kiss.

“Fuck me already,” he purrs against Thor’s lips, clenching around the thickness inside of him and Thor _loses_ it.

With one arm wrapped around Loki’s chest and a hand on his cock, Thor thrusts up into him hard, slapping their skin together as he pounds into the Swede again and again. He’s earning loud and unashamed moans as Loki tugs sharply on his blond strands and reaches back to dig his fingernails into the firm muscle of Thor’s ass, wanting him even deeper and harder that he’s already having him.

Thor calls him a slut, and Loki moans louder just to spite him.

When Thor adjusts the angle of his hips, Loki shudders against him and whines, his stomach drawing tight and cock twitching in the blond’s grip with every jab of his prostate. Thor barely holds back a smirk and drives into the model again and again, just to hear those whines despite the sharp sting of digging fingernails and hair pulling.

“’m close,” Loki pants suddenly, head tilted back over Thor’s shoulder, and Thor begins to suck at the exposed throat just as he wraps his fingers around the base of Loki’s dick and squeezes, “You mother fucker--” Loki hisses, dragging his nails across Thor’s ass and hip, leaving red angry marks in its trail and Thor bites at the pale neck in retaliation, growling all the while.

Everything is pain mixed with pleasure and they love it. Rivals and lovers, biting and kissing, begging for more and pushing the other away. It’s animalistic and Thor pushes Loki onto his hands and knees, gripping his hips roughly before he’s driving into him deeper and harder, and then Loki’s seeing stars. He’s chanting Thor’s name into the duvet with every thrust, feeling the way Thor’s fingers press bruises into his hips and the tip of his cock is nudging that bundle of nerves inside of him over and over again--

He cums with a loud cry, his body tense and clenching around Thor’s girth as he spills onto the bed, his arms shaking until he just lowers himself, panting into it and encouraging Thor to cum, telling him how much he wants it and to keep going.

Thor groans and growls through his orgasm, spilling into the condom and Loki moans as he feels the twitching inside of him, wondering just how full Thor would fill him if he weren’t wearing that condom. He wonders how hot it would be inside of him, how it would feel running down the insides of his thighs…

“Holy fuck,” Thor whispers breathlessly in disbelief, blinking to clear his vision as he presses his forehead against Loki’s back, trying to catch his breath despite just having the orgasm of the year.

Loki chuckles lazily and hums in agreement, eyes closed with a small smile on his nearly-bare lips. ‘Holy fuck’ is about right. He’s on cloud fucking nine and there’s nothing that could bring him back down…

Except for Thor abruptly pulling out.

  
**

  
He lays there for a while, eyes closed and simply enjoying the bliss that has washed over him, listening to Thor shuffling around in the bedside table again. There’s a sharp little ‘ _shick’_ sound and moments later, the familiar scent of smoke hits Loki’s nose.

Once he has his bearings about him, Loki lifts himself up from his stomach on the bed and turns around carefully, seeing Thor sitting there with his back against the wall and a cigarette in his hand, condom knotted and in the garbage beside the bed. He sweeps his green eyes around the room for the first time, always curious about bedrooms, and sees various thing he’d without a doubt ask about later.

For now, he pushes his messy hair back from his face and crawls on all fours to straddle Thor, plucking the cigarette from his fingers carefully. He takes a long drag before handing it back, blowing the smoke out slowly as he takes in his bedmate’s appearance: blond hair a mess, eyelids drooped with blown pupils, and…lipstick smeared all over his collarbones, chest, and neck.

Loki can’t help but begin to laugh, grinning as Thor quirks a brow in silent question. “You have lipstick all over you,” he explains with a smirk, even though he knows he probably looks just as bad, but he’s in far too good of a mood to really care.

Thor glances down at himself and laughs, his free hand rubbing at a purple streak across his right nipple, and Loki immediately stops him, “No, wait,” he chuckles, pulling Thor’s hand away before leaving the bed, a slight limp in his walk as he retrieves his phone from his coat pocket, which was so lovely strewn across the floor carelessly. He ignores the text messages and various notifications to pull up the camera, turning and holding it up to Thor.

The blond arches the same eyebrow, a look of ‘what?’ on his features, and Loki snaps a picture quickly. Thor is posing without knowing it and it’s nearly infuriating. “Lie on your back,” he demands, and Thor sighs cigarette smoke before he places it carefully in the ashtray beside the bed and moves to do as he’s told. Loki whispers ‘good boy’ before falling quiet, taking in Thor’s gloriously nude form for a moment. Then, he carefully covers his sex with the duvet and steps back, tilting his phone a bit before snapping another picture.

“Is that all?” The blond mutters and Loki smirks, shaking his head as he goes to straddle him again, snapping more photos of the gorgeous man grabbing his cigarette with nothing but the bright city lights to illuminate him.

\--

They share the cigarette after Loki places his phone aside, naked and careless as Loki puts his head on Thor’s shoulder and allows the blond to place the butt in between his lips for the last drag. Very considerate of him, and Loki holds his breath as he reaches up to grab Thor’s face, pulling him down and connecting their lips. He breaths the smoke into Thor’s mouth, and the blond inhales, both sharing the taste of nicotine on their tongue.

Loki pulls away reluctantly, an inch or so, his eyes closed as their bottom lips catch gently. He opens his eyes when Thor reaches back and stubs the cigarette out, and he sees the blue eyes staring back into his green.

They don’t speak. They stare with soft eyes, and Loki feels like he has a lump in his throat. He doesn’t know why, but when Thor kisses him again, he doesn’t pull away this time.

\--

“Is, um...” Oh, he knew her name, he did…“-- _Darcy_ texting you?” There we go.

Loki’s eyes are glued to the screen as he scrolls through his phone, but his eyebrows rise almost comically, “Oh, you remembered her name. Good job.”

“You’re being condescending,” Thor smirks, blue eyes peeking at the screen as he presses his nose into Loki’s messy hair, his arm going around the small waist.

The Swede laughs at that, albeit softly, “No, I’m congratulating you,” he insists, although he’s smirking now as he scrolls through his Twitter app.

“You’re a jerk.”

“Now _you’re_ being mean.”

“You started it…”

Loki doesn’t respond to that, instead he tilts the phone screen away and Thor grunts into his brown hair. Loki smiles to himself, “No, I’m not texting her,” he mutters after a moment, feeling a fingertip tracing something into his hip absently, “I’ve decided to ignore her for the night…”

“To spend time with me?”

Loki doesn’t want to admit it, but yes, so he can have time with Thor, alone, for the first time. He locks his phone and sets it aside, turning from his back onto his side and looking at the other model. Those blue eyes are playful yet a little somber, far too serious for Loki’s liking.

“To sleep,” he smirks softly, and Thor just gives him a disbelieving look.

\--

“So what’s with the globe?” There’s a small silver globe across the room on Thor’s dresser, and Loki’s been staring at it for the past five minutes while Thor texts on his own phone. The globe seems out of place in the messy room, and he needs to know why it’s there.

Thor glances over it at before returning to his phone, “A gift.”

“From whom?”

Thor’s quiet for a moment, and he’s even stopped typing. “My father.”

Loki didn’t like that tone. “Birthday?” He asks softly, wrapping an arm around Thor’s chest as he presses his cheek into the other’s chest, still staring at the globe.

“Fifth, yeah.”

What kind of parent gives their kid a globe for a birthday present? Kids want…toys and stuff. Not globes.

Well, probably some, but Loki never wanted a globe until he was sixteen, and it was for school.

“You’ve kept it for so long?” Loki murmurs again, hearing the soft sound of Thor’s thumbs typing again.

“It’s a reminder,” Thor whispers, blue eyes concentrated on texting Sif and apologizing.

Loki licks his lips and feels this sudden cloud over them, like this subject wasn’t something they should talk about right now or even never, but he can’t stop himself, “Of?”

“That I don’t need him, because I have the world in front of me.” His voice is so firm and sure, and Loki knows right then and there that he won’t bring the subject up again.

He lifts his head and turns onto his stomach, still pressed against Thor’s side as he pushes the blond’s phone away to stare at him. Thor’s gaze flickers from the phone to Loki, unsure of where to focus, but the green gaze is too intense and he snaps lightly, “What?”

Loki looks to and from each of Thor’s two beautiful eyes for a moment, before a stifled chuckle leaves him and a smile lifts his lips, his eyes soft because he _knows_ without having to ask. “Nothing,” he whispers, and watches as Thor visibly relaxes.

\--

Later, Loki helps wash the lipstick off of Thor’s body in the shower, kissing the red marks he left behind on the tanned skin. Thor wraps his arms sweetly around the Swede and holds him close, soapy hands running up and down his back and sides, nuzzling at Loki’s temple with the tip of his nose.

Loki’s heart picks up speed at the way Thor’s being so gentle with him now, and he closes his eyes as he inhales the steam from the shower, breathing out onto the dip of Thor’s collarbone before he buries his face into the warm, damp skin of his not-lover’s neck.

He’s content with the silence.

\--

They’re tangled up in Thor’s bed half an hour later, naked with damp hair, and Thor’s fingers hook under Loki’s knee to pull it higher on his hip so he can press his own thigh up against the brunet’s backside. Loki runs his hand down Thor’s arm, eyes downcast as he reflects on the night so far. It just passed midnight and they’ve been here for a while, just lying and idly touching one another.

The silence is so easy between them, it’s scary.

It’s the most intimate one night stand Loki’s ever had in his life, and he doesn’t know how he feels about it. It’s frightening, this is new territory, but he’s too curious to back out, to make some lie and go rushing out of this apartment.

“Hungry?” Thor murmurs, breaking their long silence just as he squeezes Loki’s ass playfully with one hand.

“Probably not for the same thing,” he smirks, lifting his eyes to the blond’s face, and he feels a little vulnerable because rarely anyone sees him without makeup these days. Loki asks him about it, wonders if he’ll have to smack him when given a cheeky response, but Thor just says all he notices are those green eyes and pink lips, and that he may even be beautiful.

Loki doesn’t dare blush. He asks Thor to prove it, instead.

\--

Pale fingers pull at the sheets again, handfuls of dark blue sheets with the duvet pushed to the foot of the bed as Loki mewls and gasps into the bed, green eyes glazed over and lips parted as Thor’s slick tongue swipes over his entrance again. His stomach squirms and his cock is flushed red once more, curved up against his lower stomach as it has been for the past fifteen minutes.

Thor thinks eating him out will prove himself and his words, pulling Loki’s hips up and off the bed as he circles the twitching hole with his tongue, slurping softly and spreading Loki’s cheeks apart to continue his assault.

Loki’s not going to stop him and ask to be serenaded instead. He takes what he can get, and sometimes pushes back on that prodding tongue with a soft keen.

When Thor manages to push his way inside, wriggling past the loosened muscle, Loki’s fisting at his cock and cums again in mere seconds, whimpering and writhing against the blond’s strong hold until he just gives up and pants into the bed again.

But Thor doesn’t stop, he drags the flat of his tongue over the twitching entrance again, slowly, and pressed kisses to the twin globes of Loki’s ass before the Swede reaches back to push the blond away with a huff.

Once he caught his breath, he kisses the smug look off of Thor’s face and wraps his hand around his stiff cock, stroking and teasing Thor as much as possible until he cums all over the Swede’s pretty face, painting his left cheekbone and lips with his spill, half of it on the ruined bed sheets.

Loki smirks and licks the salty cum from his lower lip, letting Thor taste himself on his tongue when the blond pulled him into another hungry kiss.

\--

“What do you call a nosy pepper?”

“I don’t know. What?”

“Jalapeno business.”

That one gets a soft snort from Thor, and Loki feels accomplished.

“Alright, alright—what do calendars wear?”

“…dates?”

“You piece of shit!”

Loki laughs heartily at that, grinning as Thor laughs along with him, but he smacks the blond’s chest when he feels fingers pinch his side as revenge for spoiling his joke.

They’ve been telling bad jokes for far too long, and Loki wonders when and why they started in the first place.

Their laughter dies down and Loki doesn’t attempt another joke. Instead, he thrums his fingertips against the blond’s chest, and Thor watches him do so, a little amazed when he realizes that Loki’s playing along with his heartbeat, whether the Swede knows or not.

“Ever play the piano before?” He asks softly, flicking his gaze to Loki’s face this time, seeing the small bit of concentration there.

“When I was younger, around ten or eleven. I had a nice teacher, she gave me little chocolates when I played a note or song right…”

Thor hums and goes back to watching the fingers tapping against his chest, trying to imagine a young Loki sitting tall in front of a piano and playing, smiling when he was given a treat.

“What about you?” Loki’s voice is just as soft as before, taking Thor from his thoughts, “Ever play anything?”

“Guitar. I started when I was around fifteen, but I doubt I’d remember much if I tried to play…”

Loki hums this time, and stops his rhythmic thrumming to look up at the other man. Thor tilts his head slightly to look down at him, and they stare at one another, a dozen questions bouncing around in their heads but not one makes it out. They know enough about one another from interviews not to ask questions about why or how they came to be a model. It would be foolish to ask at this stage.

Instead, Thor smiles, and after a moment, Loki gives him one in return.

\--

Loki’s dead tired by two a.m., and he says so while Thor’s busying himself with the long brown strands of the Swede’s hair, twirling it around his fingers lazily. Loki’s tucked away in his broad chest, eyes closed with sleep pulling at his consciousness, whispering into his ear sweetly.

Or is that Thor?

Either way, he wants to sleep. They take up one half of the double bed (the other half  is wet and tacky, so they avoid it as much as possible) and it’s warm under the duvet Loki’s pulled up from the floor. Thor smells like his Irish Spring body wash and its dizzying Loki wonderfully, his fingertips pressed against the firm muscles of Thor’s chest.

“Sleep, then,” the blond murmurs into the other’s hairline, his own eyes drooping with every passing moment.

Loki sighs one last time before allowing himself to be pulled into sleep.

**

Loki loves to sleep in. It’s a well-known fact by anyone he’s close to, and now Thor knows, because the blond is up long before the Swede even stirs. The only reason Loki wakes up is because he smells coffee, and bacon. He doesn’t like bacon all that much, but he’s so hungry he’d eat anything.

He doesn’t feel like wearing women’s underwear, so he raids Thor’s closet and finds a pair of pyjama pants that he slips on, ignoring the blond’s wardrobe for now, and they nearly slip right back off his bony hips. He has to knot the drawstring tight in order to move without having it threaten to pants him.

After making himself presentable, he shuffles out to the hallway, eyes taking in the bare walls as he makes his way further into the apartment. He first notices the open blinds, letting the sunlight stream in along the hardwood floor, and takes in the sunken living room that has two steps leading down to it. There’s a long white couch with fluffy cushions a few feet from the balcony doors, an ancient looking area rug, a large ottoman serving as a coffee table…and the large flat screen TV is on, playing the news, but Loki doesn’t pay it any attention as he continues on to the open kitchen just next to the living room.

Thor’s wearing a pair of red plaid boxers and a simple grey t-shirt, bacon sizzling in a frying pan in front of him, along with some eggs. He’s sipping from a mug and once he notices movement in the corner of his eye, looks over and sees Loki there, hair messy and wearing his pants.

“Morning, Sleeping Beauty,” he smirks, and Loki crosses his arms over his bare torso, leaning against the wall because he has nothing else better to do than watch. He manages a soft ‘morning’ but that’s it.

He’s a little awkward because he’s never slept in after a one night stand. The clock across the room tells him it’s half past nine, and he’s usually out the door before the sun fully rises, so he’s at a loss of what to do or how to act.

Luckily, Thor seems to know just what to do, “Want some breakfast?” He asks easily, carefully flipping an egg over, as if they had been living together for months. Loki watches him for a moment longer, sizes him up, before throwing caution to the wind.

“Yes, that’d be great,” he mutters, and their eyes meet just in time for Loki to give him a sleepy smile.

“Coffee?”

“Please.”

“Mugs are in that cupboard,” Thor smirks, and as Loki walks past him, he smacks the blond hard on his perfectly round ass.

\--

Loki only wants scrambled egg whites and plain toast, with two strips of bacon, so that’s what he gets when Thor asks. It’s a very easy morning so far, Loki perched at the island as he sips his coffee and as time passes, he doesn’t feel so awkward anymore. They even move to the living room, settling on the couch with their plates and cups. Thor wants to watch the news, though, so Loki’s stuck with it, no matter how much he wrinkles his nose and whines.

And for a while, it’s as if nothing else exists. It’s so easy; there’s just Thor and Loki, sitting on the couch eating breakfast, sipping on black coffee in between bites. When they finish, they set the plates on the ottoman and Loki finds himself becoming comfortable against Thor’s shoulder.

He’s too comfortable with Thor and it suddenly scares him.

He’s never stuck around so long, and now it’s almost eleven, he has _things_ to do. Darcy is probably having an aneurysm over her missing model and that model is lounging on the fucking couch with Thor Odinson, acting like some goddamn married couple!

Loki freaks. Quietly, of course, but he’s becoming restless. His blood is pumping and his heart is racing, he’s sure he’s shaking. He finally just stands and rushes to the bedroom, glad Thor wasn’t questioning his motives. With shaking hands, he shucks off the pyjama bottoms and pulls on his own clothes, swearing under his breath as he searches for his phone from the messy bed and stuffs it into his pocket without a second thought when he finds it.

Once he has his shoes back on, he rushes to the bathroom, “Thor,” he calls, keeping his voice as even as possible as he rifles through the other man’s medicine cabinet, “I have to go, Darcy’s having a shit fit.” Probably not a lie, but he finds a little bottle of mouthwash and swishes it around in his mouth, spitting into the sink after a moment.

He’s hoping the habit calms him, but it doesn’t.

“What?” Came the blond’s reply and Loki wanted to smack him upside the head.

“I’m leaving!” He shuts the little mirror and leaves the bathroom, wiping at his lips as he heads for the door.

Suddenly Thor’s there and his arms are around Loki’s waist, pulling him back against his hard chest, and it takes all of Loki’s willpower to not lean back into him. “I had a great night,” the taller man murmurs, burying his face into Loki’s hair and damn this man! Loki’s cheeks are flushed and he feels like a panic attack is coming on, something he hasn’t felt in _months_ , like he needs to crawl out of his skin and just _leave_.

“Yes, me too,” he gasps softly, placing his hands on Thor’s arms and gently tugging as he feels like his throat’s closing up, “But, I really have to go--”

Thor lets him go and Loki rushes out of the apartment the second the door’s opened, not saying another word.

Something happened last night and Loki doesn’t know what, but he can’t see Thor again. This is new and scary and he’s really going to have a fucking panic attack if he doesn’t get the hell out of this building!

He rushes down the stairs, not patient enough for the elevator, and takes a deep breath of the crisp winter air the very second he’s outside. He walks down the street with quick steps in his ankle boots, bundling his coat tighter around his thin body, his head clearing and the fear of a panic attack decreasing with each deep breath he takes. He’s fine. He’s alright. He just needs to get home, take a shower, and just…relax.

Now far enough from Thor’s apartment building, Loki lifts his arm and hails a passing cab, rushing into the backseat when it pulls over. He gives thanks before offering his address, warming up his hands as the car begins to move onwards.

He checks his phone after a minute, seeing numerous missed calls from Darcy, as well as texts. He scrolls through them on the screen before swiping it to unlock, tapping in the code quickly.

The picture of Thor in his bed, half covered by sheets, and with lipstick smeared on his skin pops up and Loki’s breath catches in his throat. He’s frozen for a moment, green eyes glued to the single picture, remembering every touch and kiss Thor had given him last night. The way they were so comfortable with each other on the couch, sleeping so close, the way Thor smelt after their shower, holding Loki against his warm skin…

A small smile begins tugging at the corner of his lips the longer Loki stares at the picture, and suddenly, he’s not so scared anymore.

  
**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry times infinity for not updating in over a month! Finals just appeared out of nowhere and assignments and essays poured in during the last two weeks of November. Two exams at the end of the week, and then I'll be able to update another chapter over Christmas break!
> 
> Thank you for being so patient with me! And thank you to my wifey, ThatJotunPoleDancer~\
> 
> Also, I finally give this story its reason to be rated E, haha!
> 
> Outfits for this chapter:  
> [Thor's first outfit](http://cdni.condenast.co.uk/592x888/Shows/SS2012/Milan/Mens/Dolce_and_Gabbana/00010big_592x888.jpg)  
> [Second outfit](http://cdni.condenast.co.uk/426x639/Shows/SS2012/Milan/Mens/Gucci/00010big_426x639.jpg)  
> [And third](http://cdni.condenast.co.uk/426x639/Shows/SS2012/Milan/Mens/Gucci/00030big_426x639.jpg)  
> [You've seen this one from last chapter, but here it is again!](http://cdni.condenast.co.uk/592x888/Shows/SS2012/Paris/Couture/alexander_vauthier/00110big_592x888.jpg)  
> ["Egyptian Queen"](http://cdni.condenast.co.uk/592x888/Shows/SS2012/Paris/Couture/alexander_vauthier/00200big_592x888.jpg)  
> [And the lacy lbd.](http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oolassdVVvk/Tz2PUzttWpI/AAAAAAAACig/i3L1vg9IxyA/s1600/ZUHAIR-MURAD-HAUTE-COUTURE-SS-2012-LITTLE-BLACK-DRESS-1.jpg)  
> 


	4. Chapter 4

Kitten On the Catwalk  
Spring/Summer 2012

_  
Perhaps it wasn’t the smartest thing to have rough sex_ , Thor muses to himself as he stands in front of the large mirror in his bathroom, fingertip lightly tracing the scratches on his hips. They’re red, angry marks left behind by Loki’s perfectly manicured fingernails in a fit of passion and frustration. Still, Thor can’t help the small smirk as he presses against the few small bruises on his neck, a light red that would fade within a week.

It’s been two days since he last saw or heard from Loki, and Thor doesn’t know how he feels about that. He hasn’t had any shows or shoots (thankfully), and hasn’t gotten the Swede’s number from him, so Thor was just left in the dark. Usually, he never concerned himself with a one night stand after the fact - it doesn’t matter what they do afterwards - but with Loki…it’s different. Hell, he might even be _concerned_. Loki had left the apartment in a flurry, no makeup and hair a mess, and Thor hadn’t missed the panicked look on his not-rival’s face.

Perhaps Darcy really had been freaking out. Perhaps Loki had a secret girlfriend or boyfriend and realized his mistake. Perhaps he was late for an appointment. Perhaps—

It didn’t matter.

Loki was gone, they had a great time; Thor had physical proof of it. His entire bed had smelt of sex and Loki by the time he got around to stuffing the sheets into the washing machine, stained with purple smears and tacky spots. Evidence of a good night washed away with detergent, but memories imprinted in his mind forever.

It was a very different night for him. He never had such an intimate night with someone he met only twice. They had actually _talked_ when their tongues weren’t doing something better, and the looks they had shared were…something entirely new. The world stopped when he looked into Loki’s eyes, his breath caught in his throat, and…no.

No, no, no, _no_.

No.

“Fuck off…” Thor whispers to himself as he turns around, trying his best to glance at his back instead, and sees the matching red scratches there.

He’s really glad he doesn’t have any shows or shoots, because it would take a ton of makeup to try and cover up these marks. He’s tempted to take a picture and keep them, show Loki what he had done if and when they meet again, but decides that it isn’t necessary. Loki had taken pictures of him, naked and covered in lipstick, which probably wasn’t too smart of a move, either, if the Swede ever wanted to blackmail him.

It had been a spur of the moment thing, and Thor didn’t really regret it. Loki seemed like a decent guy, he wouldn’t spread those pictures around. Thor _trusted_ him, in some twisted sense. He trusted a guy he slept with once and met twice! How fucking insane was that? It even made Thor scoff out loud.

No matter how insane everything seemed, Thor knew he was hung up on Loki, and he had it _bad_.

The buzzer suddenly goes off in the hallway and Thor wraps a towel around his waist before he goes to answer it.

“Hello?”

“As lovely as this spring weather is, Thor, I’d very much like to come inside!”

Fandral’s here.

“Sif?”

“And Hogun!” She calls, and Thor lets them in.

The whole brood is here, apparently, and it would be wise to get some clothes on. Fandral had decided that they all needed to go out before Thor got busy again, as he didn’t have anything coming up anytime soon, except for a shoot with OUT magazine next week that he was pretty excited for. He didn’t read it, but it was extremely flattering to be on the cover, in his opinion.

His friends are faster than anticipated, as Fandral is knocking repeatedly on the door not two minutes later. He knows its Fandral because Sif and Hogun wouldn’t knock that much and that fast without having a few drinks first.

Thor is forced to answer the door in his jeans, and gives them all an uneasy grin as they enter.

Fandral’s the first to notice.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Thor, did you wrestle with a bear?!” The other blond is laughing as he turns his muscled host around, whistling as he sees the scratches.

“Oh my god,” Sif gasps as she catches sight of the red lines going up Thor’s back, toeing off her shoes as she pushes on Thor’s shoulder to turn him around again. She gasps louder and Hogun’s smirking as he shakes his head, closing the door behind them.

“Well?” Fandral asks with a bright grin, shoes and coat off as he begins to make his way down the hall towards the living room, a bounce clear in his step. How he’s so happy all the time, Thor doesn’t know.

Thor ushers the other two towards the main room as well, pulling his shirt over his head as he follows, “I had someone stay the night two days ago,” he finally admits, not meeting anyone’s eye as he goes towards the kitchen.

“Who?” It’s Sif this time, surprisingly. She usually doesn’t want to know any details about his one night stands.

He doesn’t know if he should tell her, honestly. He’d tell Fandral without a second thought, and Hogun if he asked (but he wouldn’t), but Sif…she’s his friend _and_ agent. This could be risky.

Thor decides to avoid the question, “Want anything to drink? Anybody? Fandral? Hogun?”

There’s a silence and Thor turns to see three expectant looks.

 _Fuck it_.

“Okay, fine, I slept with Loki. Laufeyson,” he huffs, shoulders slumping as he grabs an elastic from the island and pulls his damp hair back into a bun, and just like that, Sif is by his side looking both alarmed and ready to strangle him with that tiny elastic if needed.

“You what?” She asks softly, voice tense as one of her brows lift, lips pursed and Thor knows this is his agent he’s talking to.

He’s a _little_ scared, and looks down at her with wide blue eyes, swallowing harshly before he speaks, “I…slept with Loki two nights ago…” He had told her he took _someone_ home after the show, he just hadn’t specified who, and now it’s coming back to bite him in the ass.

“I cannot _believe_ you!” Shit. “Do you ever think with the head _not_ in your pants?!” That earns a snort from Hogun and a grin from Fandral, and Thor shoots them a look before he’s facing Sif again, stepping back a bit.

“I don’t see what the big deal is!” He defends himself, knowing his other ‘friends’ are of no help, “We were discreet and safe, I promise…just – just, calm down, no one saw us…” At least he hopes not.

“Loki is _incredibly_ popular right now, Thor, and you should know that anything involving the two of you would blow up everywhere! Your photos at the CK presentation were the most popular, if you need any proof, and if anyone even got a _glimpse_ of you two sneaking away at the show, there’ll be rumours and scandals and, and, – _ugh,_ I cannot _believe_ you!” She smacks his arm and Thor flinches, ignoring the snickering coming from the couch.

He rubs his arm and feels just a tad helpless, like a little kid being scolded by his mother, “It’ll probably never happen again, anyway…” He offers meekly, knowing that’s probably the biggest lie he’s ever told.

The look she gives him says she doesn’t believe him for a second, either, because it’s been long enough that Sif knows how Thor works, how he thinks. It’s why they’re friends, but right now, he wished she didn’t know anything.

“Right now, I’m going to believe you, but only because I really need a drink.” She points a finger at him and Thor nods quickly, holding his hands up in surrender. Sif finally manages a small smirk and pats his chest before stepping away, saying she’s going to use the bathroom before they leave.

Thor lets out a sigh of relief before going to grab his jacket.

\--

They all take a cab to the bar downtown. It’s become something like their usual little hangout during their downtime. It’s an inviting atmosphere, with a shiny oak bar and a little dance floor perfect for those wanting to dance without having to suffocate in a club’s atmosphere. Music is always playing in the background, filling in any silence, and it’s dimly lit to perfection.

Thor watches as Fandral explains something to Sif as they make their way down the street, an amused look on the woman’s face as she listens. Hogun interrupts from time to time by either offering his opinion or jostling Fandral playfully, and the blond laughs in return to whatever his agent says. Thor’s comfortable just listening, and reflecting on his newfound friends.

Sif had become friends with the other two men last month during one of the shows, amused with Fandral’s endless quest for being the life of the party, and thankful for Hogun’s sanity that keeps them all grounded. They’re all becoming quick friends and Thor’s thankful for it.

“Volstagg!” Fandral greets the bartender once they’re inside and he’s close enough, taking a seat at one on the stools as the man behind the counter turns to greet the four with a wide grin that’s slightly hidden beneath his beard.

He prepares their orders as they take a seat, Thor settling beside Fandral after taking a quick glance around. A few pretty girls were already looking over at them, but Thor turns away to take his beer from Volstagg with a grin, greeting him happily. Volstagg was a good man, he was great fun, and quickly becoming one of Thor’s favourite people with every visit they made.

An hour into the visit, Thor’s had about two and a half beers. Not nearly enough to get him tipsy, but he’s sure he’ll get there by the time he sees the bottom of this glass. Sif and Fandral are already halfway pissed, a slight slur in their words as they speak, but it’s only because they had a few shots Volstagg gave them on the house because apparently it was his birthday, and he was feeling generous. Hogun had taken to dancing with some brunette about half an hour ago, and Thor was certain he was tipsy, because Hogun was a little too shy and prideful to dance whilst sober.

“So,” Fandral suddenly speaks up once Sif has excused herself to the bathroom, “Loki Laufeyson, eh?”

Thor doesn’t feel like talking about it, especially after the big fuss Sif made of it earlier, but Fandral thrives off this sort of stuff, so he nods and says a casual, “Yeah.”

“How was he?”

Thor gives the giggling blond a look, “You really think I’d tell you?” He asks rhetorically, playful, and Fandral smirks before he takes another sip of his half-finished beer.

If Thor were drunk enough, he would probably spill a few details because of a loose tongue, but he’s nearly sober, so everything that happened between he and Loki is staying to himself.

“Well…are you two going to see one another again?”

Thor pauses and looks in his beer for the answer, but Fandral continues before he can even open his mouth, “ _Well_ , if you see him -- give him my number! Maybe he’ll tell _me_ all about it,” he chuckles, slinging an arm around Thor good-naturedly, but the thought of Loki spreading his pretty legs for Fandral in an offer to recreate his night with Thor stirs something inside the blond, even if that’s not what Fandral meant at all, yet jealously is rearing its ugly head in his direction anyway.

Instead, he manages a little smirk and says a playful “Fuck off,” as he takes a sip of his beer, hoping to wash away that nasty feeling.

Fandral laughs at that as he claps Thor on the back, “I’m joking!” He insists, amused, and Thor feels only a little better, although he rolls his eyes as Fandral turns to talk to Sif once she’s returned.

When one of the pretty girls comes over to chat him up, he’s happy to distract himself.

  
**  


Loki has mixed feelings about March weather.

Sure, February _just_ ended earlier this week, but it’s cold and warm at the same time, and he’s wearing a thin dark blue jacket that’ll be far too thin to wear later. During the day, this jacket is perfect, and right now, it’s his lunch-date-with-his-brother jacket. Helblindi’s picked one of the chic places for lunch, a restaurant of some five-star hotel, because it’ll go with his appearance of a sharp suit and slicked back hair.

Helblindi’s only in the city this week for a few meetings, but they haven’t seen one another in a long time (about two months, he thinks) so Loki’s actually pretty excited about it. He’s always gotten along better with his oldest brother, for whatever reason.

Loki marches into the place in his boots and today he feels like he had a bit more testosterone in his breakfast or something, so he’s gone without any makeup and hasn’t done anything to his eggplant-purple hair. He’s wearing a simple t-shirt and jeans with his jacket, men’s, and it’s so surprisingly simple. It always surprises him how much time it takes to get ready as a woman, even though he’s done it thousands of times by now.

When he sees his older brother sitting at the brightly-lit section near the windows, he waves and makes his way over to the table for two that all but promises publicity. He doubts they’ll get much, if any, because Hel’s new position is old news, and Loki hasn’t told anyone where he was going.

“ _Don’t think this is a little desperate_?” He asks Helblindi in their Native tongue once he’s close enough, smiling as he takes his jacket off and hangs it on the back of his chair.

“ _You think so_?” Helblindi asks, cocking a thick brow as he glances up from his menu, not even batting an eye at his brother, whom had been a woman yesterday during their short video call.

He’s all to use to Loki’s ever-changing gender at this point. The first time he had seen Loki in a dress, he had mistaken him for one of his brother’s girlfriends. It had been hilarious for Loki.

“ _Big, open windows_ ,” the model drawls, taking a seat and crossing his legs, “ _Centre of downtown in a fancy hotel_ …” A small smirk’s on his lips as he reaches up to take off his scarf, but thinks better of it. His hickey had yet to disappear, and he had forgotten to cover it with concealer. He grabs his menu instead, “ _You’ve been CEO for almost a year, Hel…I doubt you need any more publicity_.”

When their father Laufey had passed on four years ago, OMX had been passed onto Helblindi, the oldest. Hel had been doing his bachelor degree at the time, and therefore, had to have someone else with more experience run the company until he was ready to take over. He was merely an advisor at the time, but had worked while he went to school. Apparently it helped his chance at going into a business degree or something.

Now, at the ripe age of twenty-seven, he was nearly completed his MBM degree. It had been a tough two years for his older brother, having to juggle an entire company once he took over _and_ going to school at the same time. Loki felt bad for him, but he was also incredibly proud, because Hel would be graduating soon and wouldn’t have to worry about anything anymore except for the company.

“ _Your dark circles are getting darker every time I see you_ …”

“ _Are we going to have a nice lunch together or are you going to just point out my flaws the entire time_?”

Loki grins at his menu and laughs, picking the salmon before placing his menu aside, “ _I’m just telling the truth,”_ he shrugs, taking a sip of his fancy chilled lemon water before leaning back in his seat.

“ _I saw you in one of those fashion magazines_ ,” Helblindi says casually after a bit of silence, “ _My assistant showed me…I was surprised you weren’t wearing a dress_.”

Loki’s brow went up a fraction, “ _I wore three, about two days ago_ …” His voice fades as the image of Thor smoking in bed while covered in lipstick flashes through his mind, and he takes another sip of his water to distract himself.

“ _For what_?”

“ _A show._ Chanel.”

Loki knows that Helblindi loses interest when his eyes wander from his youngest brother to the rest of the little restaurant, and Loki re-crosses his legs while he bites the tip of his tongue. Talking about their careers never went over too well, because they didn’t have an interest in each other’s jobs at all.

So, Loki jumps to the things that matter, “ _How’s mother? The last time I talked to her, she had a fever_ …” That was three days ago. Farbauti is a full-time nurse, now that her babies had grown up and left home, and her husband had passed. It made Loki sad to think that their mother was home alone most of the time, but she was a strong woman and had gone through worse, and often reminded him about that.

“ _She’s fine now…still has a cough, though_ ,” Hel frowns and interlaces his fingers together, resting his elbows on the table, “ _Why don’t you call and ask her yourself_?”

“ _Phone calls are expensive, you know that, I can only call once a week…sometimes she’s not even home to answer_ …”

Helblindi just hums, and silence falls over them again. Something’s wrong. Helblindi’s always happy to see him, to talk with him; they rarely saw one another now that Loki had moved away from Sweden just over eight months ago, back when his career was just taking off. Loki was always closer to Hel than he was with Byleistr, and to think that their relationship was souring just…made him upset.

“ _What’s wrong_?” He outright asks when the silence stretches on for far too long, a frown of his own lips now as he stares at his older brother.

Helblindi’s nearly-maroon eyes finally connect with his brother’s green, and after a tense moment, he sighs and slumps his shoulders, his entire body following suit as he leans back against his chair. He rubs at his eyes tiredly and Loki’s frown only gets bigger, brows creasing with worry. Helblindi looks more and more like their father every day. It’s too early to worry about a stroke, but their father’s death was still fresh in his mind, and Loki worried where he shouldn’t.

“ _It’s various things_ ,” Helblindi finally murmurs, placing his hands on the table and looking at his youngest brother again, “ _Byleistr is fussing over his student loans to me and worried about not being able to graduate even though he has all the classes for his degree…the company is stable, at the moment, but the threat of the stocks is always in the back of my mind, and_ …” He hesitates with this one, “ _I’m getting married_.”

Now, they were all very reasonable things to lose sleep over. They were all stressful in their own way, but the _second_ Loki heard ‘married’, his eyes nearly popped out of his head, “ _What?! To who?!_ Valery _? Please tell me it’s_ Valery...”

Helblindi’s smile is tight and small, but he nods and his eyes are soft, and Loki finally breaks out into a grin. Valery has been Hel’s girlfriend since his second year in university, and she’s lovely. She and Loki had only met a few times, but she’s pretty much part of the family by now from what he heard from Hel and their mother. Farbauti loves her, too, so she’d be excited about this engagement without a doubt.

“ _That’s so great_ ,” Loki grins still, reaching over and taking Hel’s hand to give it a quick squeeze, “ _I’m so happy for you two, you shouldn’t be stressed over that! Have you proposed yet_?”

Hel’s smile grew a little bigger, “ _She did, actually_ …” He began to rub the back of his neck and Loki began to laugh, probably a little too loudly, but he had imagined the look on his brother’s face when Valery pulled out a ring and proposed to him out of the blue.

“ _Well, where’s your ring, funny man_?” He teases with a grin, leaning into the table on his elbows as he glances at Hel’s ring-less fingers.

“ _She bought it for herself, you know how she is_ ,” he rolled his eyes with a fond little smile and Loki couldn’t help but to widen his grin as Hel reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone and showing his little brother a picture of the ring. It’s gorgeous, one solid diamond with a silver band, very traditional. Valery was like their mother in the sense that she was stubborn and headstrong, a very passionate woman who was going to school to become a doctor. She was gorgeous, with dark brown hair and blue eyes and a killer smile, and curves that were nearly similar to Darcy’s.

She was quite the catch, in Loki’s mind. Independent, strong, seemingly fearless. She would be a wonderful addition to the Laufeysons.

“ _We haven’t set a date yet, but I’m telling mother when I get back_ ,” Hel says as he stuffs the phone back into his pocket, “ _So don’t go telling her before I do, got it_?”

“ _Got it_.” He probably would anyway.

Their waiter finally comes over and Helblindi takes a jab at the slowness, and Loki smirks as he watches the teenage boy squirm. Making people uncomfortable was a mutual pastime, no matter how cruel it seemed, they both enjoyed it far too much. It was mean, but whatever, Loki didn’t care much about people he didn’t like.

\--

Helblindi’s cutting his steak sandwich when he speaks up, “ _What about you? Have someone yet?”_

This is quite the conversation change. They had been discussing Byleistr’s graduation next year and if Loki would make the ceremony or not (he’d try), and that had floated over to the question of Loki ever going to school. He promised he would, once and if his modeling slowed down. He wanted to become a designer, make his own brand, but with this newest question, his chewing steadily slowed as he saw Hel’s questioning stare.

He swallows his salmon and clears his throat, “ _Why do you ask_ …?”

“ _The bruise on your neck. You’re either having a very abusive relationship that I should know about, or are doing things I’d rather not think about_ … _ever_.”

Loki nearly chokes on a piece of salmon as he reaches up to his neck, pulling up his scarf in a last attempt of hiding his time with Thor, but Helblindi’s looking all too amused at his brother’s pink face. It’s a lost cause, so he stops with a huff.

“ _Well_?” His brother insists, lifting a piece of medium rare steak into his mouth.

Loki takes a sip of his water to cool his face and buy himself a little time. He couldn’t just tell his brother that he fucked his competition in an act of desperation and lust, no, that wouldn’t be…right. At all.

“ _No one you’ll ever know_ ,” he says stiffly, sniffing and all but stabbing his salmon fillet with his fork, feigning ignorance as Helblindi chuckles.

How embarrassing.

\--

“ _Tell everyone I love them, and that I’ll keep in touch,”_ Loki’s shrugging on his jacket while he stands beside the table, letting Helblindi pay for their meals this time around, “ _I’ll visit if I ever have business back home_ …” He watches Helblindi put on his coat as well, and they share a smile before Loki steps in to give him a quick hug. “ _Thank you for lunch_ …”

He’s always hated goodbyes. It’s weird and too formal for him, even with his brother. They break apart and Loki offers another little smile before they walk to the front, where he says his final farewells and all but rushes out of the building while Helblindi has his credit card swiped. He’s disappeared again and knows it.

He catches a taxi quick enough, and settles in the back with a sigh, knocking his knees together as he tells the driver his address. After checking his phone, and seeing that Darcy wants him at the agency, he redirects the cab and settles down with another sigh.

Maybe he’ll go overseas again…

\--

It turns out that he doesn’t get to go overseas again; he’s staying here. It’s not too much of a bummer, because once he learns who wants him, he’s back to being excited.

“OUT wants you to do a cover for them,” Darcy grins as she walks around her office in her bright red heels, flipping a folder over in her hands, “I haven’t received much of the details yet, but the shoot is across town and you may have a partner to do it with, but they’re really excited to meet _you_. They want to do a simple shoot and perhaps a little interview for an editorial, you know, since you’re on the _cover_ and all.”

Loki smirks from his spot behind her desk, leaning back in the leather seat, “I think you’re more excited than I am,” he teases, watching his agent sit down in the chair opposite the desk, where _he_ should be sitting.

“I am,” she grins, flipping the papers in the folder that he glances at, “You’re getting about five grand for this shoot, Loki.”

For the second time today, his eyes nearly pop out of his head, “ _Five_?!” It’s the most he’s ever made for, well, _anything_.

“I know!” She flips through the folder like a mad woman, “I hope that your profits will only grow at this point, you’re becoming so popular, and I guess OUT knows that, too, if they’re willing to put you on the cover and give you thousands of dollars – oh! Yeah, sorry, but I had to sacrifice all of your other shoots and the Alexander McQueen show next week in order to get you this.” She flips her hair from her face as she glances over to the big calendar on the corkboard across the room, reminding herself to erase the other dates so they didn’t show up somewhere for something they weren’t scheduled for.

“ _Alexander McQueen_?! You gave up my favourite designer for OUT?!” Loki’s never felt so cheated and overwhelmed with excitement in his life. “I think I’m going to faint…”

“Don’t you dare! I need you right now,” Darcy laughs, reaching over the desk and smacking his arm. Loki whines and bats her away half-heartedly, lips formed into a pout.

“But seriously, Darc… _Alexander McQueen_.” He’ll never let it go until the opportunity arises again.

“Well, it’s either two shoots and a show for half the price of one shoot,” Darcy hums, circling a detail on one page of the file.

“Very true,” Loki murmurs, a little lazy smirk appearing on his lips as he begins to slowly twirl the chair around, head tilted back as he imagines wearing one of his favourite designer’s dresses, “Promise you’ll have me in Alexander McQueen soon…?”

“Cross my heart,” his agent promises, straightening out the papers she’s finished with, and silence consumes them for a moment, both lost in their own little worlds.

Of course, it doesn’t last long. “I forgot to ask,” she doesn’t bother to look up from her file, “How was your night two days ago?”

Loki freezes up and his eyes open, trained on the ceiling. Warm lips are suddenly gliding across his skin, strong hands gripping his hips to keep him still as he’s pushed into, and blond hair falls into his vision. It’s all a memory, and a feeling fills his chest as he watches a lazy grin stretch across kiss-swollen lips, the scent of Thor’s body wash filling his senses, and the way he held him so close by those muscles, stared at, kissed softly or deeply…--

“I don’t want to talk about it…” He whispers, eyes still trained on the fluorescent lights above them. His cheeks are hot and his stomach is in knots.

He hears Darcy ruffle a few papers, “What?” She sounds shocked, although it’s more playful than anything else, “What happened?”

 _I don’t know_. “I don’t want to talk about it…” He tries to sound firm but he trails off at the end, again imagining Thor’s fingertips pushing his brown hair away from his face while they laid together.

Darcy makes a noise in her throat, “Can I at least know who it was with?”

Should he tell her? Would telling Darcy who he slept with change things? Make it wrong? He’s never bothered with telling her who, but…“Thor Odinson.”

He’s startled when the chair whips around mere seconds later, a look on his agent’s face that he couldn’t exactly read. They’re staring at one another for a long moment, Loki curled up in the chair while his agent has her arms blocking any type of escape he wants to attempt. They stare at one another for a few more moments, green wide and blue narrowed.

“We were safe, no one saw us, and it’s probably the best sex I’ve ever had…” He admits quietly, almost meekly as he breaks the silence, and Darcy stares for a moment longer before a smirk finally lifts her lips.

“Why the hell didn’t you tell me?! I was worried you were spanked too hard or something and was too embarrassed to talk about it,” she straightens up and goes back to her little seat, leaving Loki to sigh and relax in the big chair. Crisis averted.

“The best sex _ever_?” She asks, disbelief clear in her voice, and Loki groans before he hangs his head.

\--

He tells her everything. He never, _ever_ kisses and tells, but he’s so fucking lost on how to feel and what to do to _not_ tell her.

There’s little to no shame in what he tells her in the next hour, work pushed aside as they cradle hot drinks from the staff lounge in their hands, Darcy’s brows furrowed and Loki’s long limbs pulled into himself again. He leaves out the gory details of the rimming and the fucking (aside from showing her the poorly concealed hickey that she’s already noticed), but goes into detail about what happened afterwards.

“It was just something new and… _weird_.” Loki didn’t know how else to put it. He’s never had a serious relationship before, he’s never fallen in love; all he knows is lust and carnal desires. He’s a fucking animal and he feels like one, and it makes him ill.

Darcy almost looks empathetic and it’s not helping him feel any less sick, “Well, do you want to see him again?” She asks, taking a sip of her coffee.

“I’ve asked myself that already, too many times,” he mutters, licking a drop of Earl Grey tea from his lip, “I haven’t figured out the answer…” He’s scared to think about it, really. He’s curious and scared, and it’s fucking annoying. He wants to see Thor again, but he’s afraid of what might happen. Would that feeling go away? Was it a one-time thing? Or would it still be there?

“Okay…how would you feel if you saw him right here, right now? What if he just came waltzing into my office wanting to talk to you?”

He feels small and on the spot. Part of him would want to have Thor take him on the desk, ravish him all over again, but the other part wants to just…be near him. Being with Thor was uplifting, like he was filled with helium and his stress and worries just washed away. That stupid grin of his just threw Loki for a loop and left him defenseless.

One night stands shouldn’t fucking _do_ this.

“I’d excuse myself and go talk to him, I guess…” He doesn’t know what else to say.

Darcy nods and hums, not knowing what else to say, either. She isn’t great to talk to about this sort of stuff, the deep feelings and whatnot. She’s got a boyfriend, sure, but she wasn’t in love. Yet. “Sorry, kiddo, but I don’t know what else to say…besides the fact that Thor’s got a great ass and a body that just won’t quit.”

The slight tension lifts when Loki grins and laughs, nodding in agreement, “Yeah, I know, I got a couple good squeezes of it…and left behind some scratches.”

“You dirty bird!”

Loki’s smugness is poorly concealed, especially when he laughs.

  
**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Christmas and New Years, everyone! *smooches to all*
> 
> Now, I know this chapter doesn't have much action between Thor and Loki, but if plot building and character development is your thing, I bet you had a party! 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed c: thanks to TheJotunPoleDancer, again!
> 
> [No outfits for this one, weirdly. I believe in your imagination!]


	5. Chapter 5

Kitten On the Catwalk  
Summer 2012

Loki’s mouth is unbearably hot; his tongue’s tracing the vein on the underside of Thor’s cock slowly, hot puffs of breath drawing a groan from Thor as he feels those pastel-pink nails scratch along his inner thighs teasingly. Those wide green eyes are staring up at him almost innocently, and Thor reaches down to thumb at Loki’s bottom lip, feeling how wide the Swede’s lips are stretched around his cock.

Soft hums vibrate him to his core, and Thor’s lips part in a silent moan, brows furrowing as he bumps the back of Loki’s throat. The Swede gags softly, and digs his nails into Thor’s thigh in a small act of revenge before pulling off the blond with a soft ‘ _pop’_.

Before he can speak, Thor is jolted awake by his phone, shrilling loudly next to him on the other pillow where it’s connected to the charger that’s plugged into the wall. Groaning, he rolls over onto his other side and unlocks his phone, and groans again when he realizes who the text message is from.

It’s too early to be sassed by her, friend _or_ agent.

‘ _Awake yet, sleeping beauty? Got some more details for the shoot on Thursday_.’

Count on Sif Sylvan to ruin a nice dream by talking about work.

And it’s _Sunday_.

‘ _No, still sleeping_.’ He responds slowly, squinting despite the darkness of his bedroom. He had drawn the curtains in his drunken haze once he had stumbled home, and he was thanking himself for that now—or rather, is headache was.

Dropping his phone onto his pillow, he rubs the sleep out of his eyes, thinking that since it was just past eleven he might as well get up and face his night out. He also busies himself with the thought that it’s strange waking up alone after a night out. Usually he has someone curled up next to him--like Loki, who had his thin arm draped over his torso that morning after, breathing deeply into the side of his chest. It had taken a lot of maneuvering for Thor to get out of the bed, no matter how much he hadn’t wanted to.

Still, the lack of body heat and the presence of another person definitely was missed. Thor liked waking up with someone, no matter who it was.

‘ _I was thinking lunch_.’ Sif texts back after a few minutes, but he doesn’t get back to her until he returns from the bathroom.

‘ _Today?_ ’

‘ _What, like you have anything better to do than nurse your hangover and cry about it?’_

She’s got him there. ‘ _I don’t cry about it…and how don’t you have one? You had three shots more than I did!_ ’

‘ _Drank a glass of water before bed, woke up with a headache that an aspirin fixed. So you in?_ ’

With a grunt and a pout, Thor types out his reply, ‘ _Yeah, sure_.’

‘ _Great, I’ll pick you up in an hour._ ’

\--

There aren’t too many new details, although Thor finds out where the shoot is and that the photographer is Willy Foreman, the same man who had done his first cover shoot. Pretty much the man who gave him the jumpstart to his career, and oh, wasn’t that exciting? Even though Thor hadn’t wanted to model for the longest time, he’s happy about it now, smiling at Sif as he sips his coffee and waits for his rare delicacy of a cheeseburger.

“Now, I have no idea what you’re going to wear—they didn’t give me those details, but remember that this is OUT, so expect something either totally ordinary or very…fabulous.”

“Nice choice of words,” Thor smirks, lifting his mug to his lips again.

“Thank you,” Sif hums, running her fingers through her long hair. It was down, surprisingly. She always wore her hair up when discussing work-related things, but today it was wavy and beautifully messy. It looked really soft and Thor wanted to touch it. Like Loki’s.

Yeah, time to stop thinking now.

“Anything else I should know for the shoot?” He asks, twirling his mug around by the handle idly.

Sif pauses and shrugs, “No, I haven’t gotten anything yet, which is a little strange…but I’m sure they’ll send me a notification when they have everything straightened out,” she sits up once she spots their waitress coming over with a tray of food, “But I pretty much told you everything, so just enjoy your cheat day, alright? Back to the gym tomorrow.”

“Yup.”

He cherishes every bite of that damned greasy burger, and gets a sore stomach later on. It was worth it.  
  
**  
  
“ _What’s easy in the night, is always such a bite in the morning light…_ a _hahahahaaa_ …”

“You’re shit at singing, you know that?” Darcy asks from her spot by her printer/fax machine, stamping the fresh papers that it just spit out.

“Wasn’t like I was trying!” He liked to think that he was decent at singing.

“I’m so glad you’re pretty…” Darcy sat down with a huff, a small smirk on her lips.

Loki chuckles softly and throws a pen at her, happy when it bounces off her head comically. She throws it right back, and it bounces off the desk before falling to the floor, forgotten.

“Can we go now? I’m getting restless.” Which explains his singing and bouncing knee. Today is the day of the OUT shoot and Loki’s pretty pumped underneath his cool exterior.

Darcy’s writing something onto a post-it note furiously, not even looking up as she speaks, “Yeah, go put on your coat, I’ll just stick this on my door and we’ll get going…”

Loki gladly does as he’s told, grabbing his spring jacket and shrugging it on. He’s tying his hair up into a messy bun with an elastic he found in the pocket when he hears a little noise of _something_ come from Darcy. He turns and frowns, lowering his arms from his hair and crossing them over his chest, “What?”

“Um,” Darcy flicks her gaze over to the model from the papers in her hands, looking at him for a moment before smiling, “Nothing, it’s nothing. Ready?” She tucks the papers away in the file that she was bringing with them to the shoot.

Loki nods and mutters ‘yeah’, turning towards the door slowly as Darcy makes her way over to put on her jacket.

\--

He had been too distracted by everything else to ask who he would be doing the shoot with. The thought of making so much money for one shoot was the most important thing in his mind, his career always comes first, and never would he have thought that OUT wanted Thor Odinson. But then again, why wouldn’t they? Thor’s one of the hottest models right now, it only…makes sense…

Loki wants to beat his face against the wall, but it’s too busy burning up the longer Thor stares at him with those intense electric blue eyes.

The minute he had walked on the set with Darcy and saw Thor standing there, chatting with the photographer and Sif, he had gone from bubbly and eager to completely shell shocked. It was like a jolt to his system to see the blond man, and the second their eyes connected, Loki felt that stupid fucking spark.

Sif had her hand on Thor’s arm, jostling him gently, speaking to him in a soft voice, but Thor just kept _staring_.

“Loki, come on, you gotta get changed,” suddenly Darcy’s taking hold of her model’s arm and leading him away, Loki’s eyes still holding Thor’s gaze until he’s pulled off the set and into the hallway.

The second they’re far enough, Darcy’s talking, “I had no idea until the last minute,” she says calmly, holding onto Loki’s arm as she leads them down a hall, “Believe me, even Sif had no idea, I asked her once I had her number.” That explained the texting in the car and distant attitude, “You just have to be professional, okay? I know what happened, but you have to put it behind you for today, alright? Can you do that?”

Loki takes his gaze off the floor and looks to his agent, and he sees Darcy’s professional face as much as he does her normal one, but he always feels so small when she turns it on him. “Yeah, of course,” he mutters, licking his dry lips quickly, “I just…need a moment,” he takes a deep breath, and adds as an afterthought, “And maybe a cigarette.”

Darcy looks a little sympathetic as she leads them into the dressing room, but pats his back and lets the stylists greet him, welcoming with kisses to the cheek and hand squeezing. Loki’s always liked this part, being pampered and having his hair and makeup done, so hopefully he’ll feel better by the end of it.

**

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Thor mutters around his cigarette as he fishes for his lighter in his coat pocket, a brow lifting as he stares at Sif. He’s all ready for the shoot, and now everyone’s waiting for Loki to finish up, so he’s pulled her outside with him for a cigarette, even if she doesn’t smoke.

Sif looks at him with a frown, arms crossed over her chest, “I found out at the last moment, and you were too busy talking with Willy…you didn’t give me much of a chance to talk, or even ask.”

He can’t argue with her there, so he takes a drag once he’s lit the damn thing, blue eyes turning away from her. He can’t blame Sif for anything, as they usually forget one another during these things, too focused on their own jobs.

In all honesty, he did want to see Loki again. He wanted to see how the other model was doing, but this was…he didn’t know. It wasn’t too soon, nor was it too late. It seemed like a reasonable time to approach someone again, yet here he was, cowering outside in the slush and sun.

Sif’s quiet for a moment, shifting her weight back and forth between her feet. She glances around them with her eyebrows drawn together, lips pressed flat in a line, and finally she speaks, “Did something…happen between you two? More than the usual one night?” She knows the perfect questions to ask.

It irritates Thor just a bit.

“You know you can tell me, Thor. We’re friends.”

“I know,” he mutters after a moment, blowing out a lungful of smoke, “It’s just…complicated.” He’s never liked talking about things. He’d much prefer to just think about things by himself, to figure it out without outside advice, but he’s pretty lost here on his own, so…

“How so?” Sif leans against the wall of the building, after checking if it was clean enough.

He takes another drag to buy himself some time, lips pursed and his cigarette by his side as he leans against the wall as well, shifting his weight from foot to foot because he doesn’t know what to say. He doesn’t even know what the hell happened! “I…don’t know.”

Sif huffs and decides to take a different approach, “Was it like the nights you’ve had before?”

“…no.”

“Do you know why?”

Thor licks his lips with a flick of his tongue, “It was different.”

“Yes, I know, but how? Why?”

“It was…I don’t know— _intimate_?”

Sif’s brows are furrowed now, “In the way that isn’t just physical?”

Thor brightens, “Yes!” That was the perfect way to put it.

“Alright…okay,” Sif looks away and bites on her lip as she thinks, “Well, did you two do anything different?”

“We talked.”

Sif would admit to having a few nights with other people, and that’s probably why her eyebrow lifted, “About what?”

Thor shrugs before he takes a drag, “Stuff,” he breathes.

She’s going to need a cigarette, too, if Thor doesn’t throw her a fucking bone soon. “Random stuff?”

“No, like…I mentioned my dad when he asked about the globe in my room.”

Well. _Now_ Sif understands the slight tension between the two models when they had met earlier; Thor and his dad weren’t on speaking terms anymore. There was a bitter past between them, Sif had learned just over Christmas, when Thor had stayed home and his mother, Frigga, had visited. Thor didn’t like talking about his family, aside from his mother, and to even _mention_ his father to Loki seemed absurd.

“And?” She asks softly, staring at Thor a little worriedly.

“Didn’t talk about it much, just said what needed to be said…”

She doesn’t press the matter. Instead, she puts her hand on Thor’s bicep and gives it a small squeeze, which he gives her a small smile for.

**

Even with his hair perfectly disheveled into a fake bob, Loki doesn’t feel as great as he had before arriving. He’s worrying, and it shows through the crease between his full eyebrows. The stylist’s busy picking out his outfit from another room, leaving Loki and Darcy to themselves for a bit, but the frown on Loki’s lips is clear as daylight in the reflection of the vanity.

He isn’t even wearing any makeup aside from the basic foundation.

And Darcy isn’t having any of this worry wart attitude, apparently.

“What if I told you something that will cheer you up?” She knows it’s her last chance of salvaging what was left of Loki’s good mood, and she’s taking it.

But he still sighs and frowns, “Oh, I doubt anything could cheer me up now…”

“Amora was second choice if you turned this shoot down.”

 _Well_.

It looked as if Loki was doing a spot-on impression of Vivien Leigh as Scarlett O’Hara with the way his face went smoothly from a pout to a smirk. He turned sharply at the waist from his seat to look at Darcy sitting across the room, her arms crossed and a small smirk playing on her red lips.

“Really?”

“Really.”

Loki’s grinning again, and when the stylist returns, he happily accepts the suit he’s to wear.

\--

The next time Loki sees Thor, it’s on the set.

And his initial reaction is to palm at the impressive bulge Thor’s sporting in those black latex-like leggings. His second gut instinct is to run away, because this is going to be fucking _awkward_.

“Hello, Mr. Laufeyson,” the photographer suddenly comes up to him, a friendly smile on his face and a hand outstretched.

Loki tears his eyes away from the blond muscled god shuffling around the set to look at the older man, and takes the offered hand, “Hello--Willy, is it?” He asks with a smaller smile, recalling the name from Darcy’s dumb dick jokes, “And please, call me Loki.”

“Sure thing, Loki,” Willy smiles, taking his hand back and placing it on the camera wrapped around his neck, “Well, let’s get to it, shall we? Go and stand next to Thor over there for me, please.”

There’s butterflies fluttering around in his stomach, but he manages a small “Sure thing,” before he’s slowly heading over to the set. It’s a white backdrop, nothing more, with the lights set around it. Thor is standing there, in _heels_ , and is taking in Loki’s thin form in the well-tailored suit.

They stand side-by-side, awkwardly, and it’s noticeable because Will (Loki can’t call him Willy, he just can’t) is calling them out on it.

“A little closer, guys,” he calls out from behind his camera, and Thor is the one to take the step, “Just do what feels right, we’ll warm up for a bit.”

Loki can feel the Thor’s bare arm brush against his own clothed one, and it jolts him awake a little bit. It’s enough to shock him into doing a pose, forcing himself to relax and put his hands in his pockets.

“I was right in thinking that you looked nice in a suit,” Thor murmurs a few shots in, shocking Loki again.

The Swede turns his head away from Thor, keeping his hands in his pockets, “You thought of me in a suit?” He asks quietly, trying to tease but it comes out too soft and he’s setting his jaw before hearing the sound of camera shutters closing and opening again.

“Yeah,” Thor mutters, and Loki turns his head to look at the blond, taking in his face with a pout that’s all for the camera.

He doesn’t know how to talk to Thor.

“Don’t talk to me in front of the camera,” he whispers, and Thor only nods, his pink lips sealed shut.

\--

Loki can hear Will whispering with Sif and Darcy across the room, most likely about the terrible job he and Thor are doing because of the stupid fucking elephant in the room. The only praise he’s heard from Will is ‘that was a good one!’ and it’s a little alarming to him, especially since the latest picture had been the source of the praise.

He’s not even in the mood to think of anything remotely dirty about Thor in those legging and heels, kneeling in front of him so nicely. Thor had gone down onto his knees five minutes ago, adjusting himself with those heels, and Loki had been at a loss because Thor was on his _knees_.

He had tilted Thor’s chin up with his index finger, leaned to his left, half-smirked into the camera, and it had been gold.

It’s the closest they’ve been since the past hour, and apparently it’s created the best picture.

“Loki.”

Green eyes flick to the corner of his vision, seeing Thor staring at him.

“You alright?”

Loki presses his lips together and turns his head, keeping his eyes focused on the blue depths no matter how hard it is to not trail down to the muscled chest, “Peachy keen,” he mutters.

“Alright, boys!” Will calls suddenly, breaking the two of them out of their little staring competition. Will’s standing in front of them in the next moment, a small smile on his face, “We’re going to break for lunch, and when you two come back, I’d very much appreciate it if you two have something figured out, alright? To be honest, things are a bit…tense, and it’s showing through the photos.”

Thor’s really fucking him over with this. “Yes, of course,” Loki replies coolly, glancing over at Darcy, who’s looking a little nervous.

“Sorry about that,” Thor apologizes, looking just that, and Loki says a soft ‘excuse me’ as Darcy motions him over.

“What?” He asks softly, reaching up to unbutton his white shirt a bit; it’s awfully stuffy in here.

Darcy’s biting her lip, “Sif and I think that you and Thor should have lunch together. Alone.”

He stares at her for a long moment, hands on the small scarf wrapped around his neck, “….what.”

“Figure it out, y’know? Work through whatever it is, because you’re really fucking up this shoot together! The magazine has high expectations of you, and I’d really love it if you two weren’t so awkward around each other--”

“Fine,” Loki snaps, not at all happy hearing how much he’s fucking up, “We’ll blow your fucking socks off when we return.” He turns sharply in his polished shoes and heads right back over to Thor, who’s discussing something with Will. He takes the blond’s arm and pulls him away, ignoring Thor’s quick farewells to the photographer as he leads them back to the dressing room.

\--

They go to the café down the street, taking a seat near the back where there are no windows and the lighting is soft, shining through stained glass. Loki refuses to acknowledge just how pretty Thor looks with his hair slicked back and different colours splotching his face like some abstract painting.

Thor orders a chicken wrap of some sort, and Loki sticks with whatever the soup of the day is.

After their waitress leaves, silence consumes the table, and it’s deafening despite the noise of the café. The utensils clinking and chairs scraping the floor can’t cover up the silence between them. Loki intertwines his fingers together on the tabletop, staring at the black polish and evaluating whether or not he should get another manicure. He shifts in his seat a couple of times, reaches up to rub at his neck, and finally glances up at the other man.

Thor’s eyes are on his neck, and they flick up to meet his eyes. They stare for a moment longer before Thor cracks a small smile, testing the waters. Loki just eyes him a little wearily, not entirely sure what he’s smiling about, until the blond speaks.

“You should see the marks you left on _me_ ,” Thor mutters, folding his arms on top the table.

Loki feels his face begin to warm, despite knowing that teasing tone, and he musters up the best unamused look he can.

It only makes Thor grin, and it’s the stupidest grin in the world.

And he can’t help but to smile back at it.

“Darcy had to bribe the makeup artist not to say anything to anyone,” he mutters in attempts of easing into some sort of conversation.

Thor’s eyes brighten along with his smile, “Sif did the same, although I’m sure it could be considered more ‘threatened’ than ‘bribed’.”

The damned blond actually makes him laugh, a smile with little chuckles, and Thor looks so pleased with himself because of it, “Sif’s pretty tough, isn’t she?” He asks.

Thor nods, “Yeah, she keeps me in line…she’s great, really.”

Loki gives a soft hum and leans back in his seat, keeping his hands on the table, “Darcy whips my ass into shape most of the time, too.”

“That’s what they’re paid to do, anyway, right?”

“Right.”

Silence comes back when the waitress returns, placing their waters down and promising to be just five minutes more. Loki was _this_ close to asking why pouring soup into a bowl was taking so long, but he kept his mouth shut instead and pushed his glass of water over to his right, away from the edge of the table.

Again, Thor’s the first to speak, “So, how’ve you been?”

He acts as if it’s been weeks since they last saw each other, so Loki gives him another look. Thor shrugs in return and Loki huffs, “I have blisters on my feet from all the shows I’ve been doing, my washing machine is broken, and I’ve almost had two panic attacks this week. I’ve been better.”

He knows what Thor wants to comment on, but he’s a little amused when Thor decides to focus on his laundry, “Go to a laundry mat or to Darcy’s place, I’m sure she’ll let you use hers.”

“There’s no way I’m stepping into her little love nest with what’s-his-face,” Loki breathes, cocking a brow with a small smirk.

“She’s got a boyfriend?”

“Yeah, obviously. Why? Did you want to fuck her?”

“No,” that pleases Loki in a way that it shouldn’t, “I was just asking, geez. Not everyone has sex on the mind all the time, Loki.”

“I beg to differ,” he mutters, breaking their eye contact to begin unfolding the little napkin-utensil wrap.

He can feel Thor staring, “You’re thinking about sex right now?” He gasps quietly, and when Loki glances at him again, there’s another playful look on that annoyingly handsome face.

“Well, not _now_ ,” he mutters, smoothing his napkin down against the table, and he pauses before asking, “Why are we talking about this?”

“Because you don’t want to fall into another awkward silence…because we saw each other naked, and I made you cum. Twice.”

Brutally honest, but Loki didn’t bother denying it. It was pretty much the reason.

“Do you…want to talk about i--”

He cuts Thor off before he can even finish, “No.” Not in a million years.

Thor blinks a few times, surprised, before he nods, “Alright, well…we won’t talk about it.” He crosses his arms over his chest and leans back into the booth, watching Loki carefully.

Loki stares right back at him, boring his green eyes into the blue, and after a moment, says, “Doing this won’t make me talk.”

“I’m not trying to make you talk.”

“Yes, you are, don’t even _try_ to lie to me.”

“I’m not trying anything!”

“Darcy does this when I won’t tell her anything, so stop it. Our food’s coming.”

Thor smirks and Loki smiles back.

\--

“You’ve really never worn heels before?” Loki asks, brows raised and a hint of a smirk pulling at his lips as the two make their way back down the street.

Things have smoothed over quite nicely, much to his pleasure. There’s a silent agreement of forgetting about everything, but acknowledging that it had happened. Thor seems fine being tight-lipped about their night together, and they’re having a nice time _not_ flirting. It’s weird, it’s like actually having a friend that didn’t talk shit behind your back or treat you like nothing when others are around.

“No, never,” Thor chuckles, shoving his hands into his pockets easily.

“Well, how is it?”

Thor shrugs and looks ahead, “I don’t know…weird? A lot taller, for sure. Do your calves ever hurt?”

Loki shakes his head, “No, I’ve been wearing them since I was sixteen. But I suppose they did hurt the first few times…”

Thor hums and holds the door open for Loki when they arrive, acting like a real gentleman, and Loki kind of hates him for it.

“The boys are back in town!” Darcy announces once she spots them, and Loki gives her a smile while Thor waves. Once they’re close enough, she asks them how lunch went, and Loki says it had been great.

She’s quick to urge them off of the set and to the dressing room, and they go willingly.

\--

“Your breath smells like chicken noodle soup,” Thor murmurs, and Loki barely holds back a smirk, keeping their eyes connected and badly ignoring how nice Thor’s hand feels pressed against his lower back.

Will’s appreciating the new proximity of his models whole-heartedly. The second they had returned from the dressing room, Thor in casual wear of a leather jacket and jeans, and Loki in a white flowing dress with laze sleeves that turn into a beautiful high neck collar. He even has a crown of flowers perched on his head, his hair in a messy updo.

But they had gotten comfortable on the new set and everything just…worked. Pieces of a puzzle, within minutes.

“It could be worse,” Loki murmurs, a mischievous glint in his eye as he tilts his chin up slightly before hearing the ‘ _click’_ of the camera, “I could have breath like yours…”

Thor laughs at that, head thrown back slightly and Loki laughs along, softer. The camera captures the sweet moment with another faint ‘ _click_ ’ that neither hear, both wrapped up in one another.

It’s both surprising and not surprising to realize that they have great chemistry together. They can laugh their heads off together, but a few pictures later, be back to their serious poker faces and pouts while gazing into each other’s eyes. Like best friends, or something more.

A few pictures capture a kind of longing, Thor’s fingers pressed against Loki’s jaw and tilting his head back as he tries to connect their lips in a kiss that never happens. Loki’s eyes are closed but there’s a look of bliss on his face, and everyone who will see the pictures wonder if there’s something between them. It’s like static between them, to be this close, and no matter how much Loki wants to tilt his head down to catch Thor’s lips, he knows he can’t.

If anything happened between them and it became public, it would be a scandal that every tabloid would eat up. It could ruin them.

But even Loki has to wonder. Earlier, everything had been easy; they had been laughing and joking around, but the longer they did the shoot, the closer they got and the more their attitude became…flirtatious. There was no other word for it. Teasing, perhaps, but there was that underlining of sexual playfulness that neither could deny.

Like the night of the Chanel show. The feeling settled deep in his gut, again, and it’s recognized as longing. There’s an ache somewhere in his body that he couldn’t pinpoint; it was everywhere all at once, and it was irritating at the same time that it was amazing. It made him crave Thor the same way he craved a cigarette. Both were poisonous to him, but he couldn’t help himself.

Thor was everything he wasn’t; charming, muscular, blond, tanned…Loki hated him for it, but at the same time, it gave him something to admire. They were both passionate and driven, too, which is probably why they got along. They clashed just as much as they complimented.

When the photo shoot is over, there’s a round of applause and they reluctantly part from one another to smile and thank everyone with nods and little half bows. They turn to each other once more, just a fleeting glance, but their eyes meet and Thor’s looking at him like _that_ again.

Loki feels his body thrum with sudden desire, licking his lips and tasting the red lipstick smeared there.

“You alright?” Thor asks softly, his voice low and eyes a little hooded, and Loki doesn’t dare step back when the blond fills the space between them.

It’s all silent conversations, a little twitch of Loki’s eyebrow and the lifting of Thor’s lips before the Swede slips his smaller hand into Thor’s and leads them away. Darcy and Sif are busy speaking to Will and the director and a few others, busy and distracted, so it’s perfect.

He knows he’s wearing a mischievous look on his face as he leads Thor towards the stairwell, and he knows he’s being swept away again, not thinking and needing to feel instead. He needs to feel Thor again, once wasn’t enough; it never will be. There’s something between them and it can’t go ignored, not when they keep meeting.

He’s glad that the blond’s stayed silent until they’re on the second floor and no one’s around. There, Thor’s lips are spread in a grin, and he asks, “Where’re we going?” In this playful and perfect voice, and he’s pulling back on Loki’s hand and laughing when the Swede’s pulled back against his chest.

Loki smacks his arm and smirks, peeling himself from Thor’s chest and leading him down the hall a little more until they reach a brown door that reads JANITOR’S CLOSET on the little plaque beside it.

“You’re fucking serious?” Thor’s voice has obvious amusement in it, and Loki twists the knob to check it, thrilled to find it unlocked.

“Yes, I’m serious,” he says as he swings it open and urges Thor inside, a wicked grin on his lips, “I’m going to suck your dick, so keep it down.”

Thor laughs and makes a terrible joke about Loki not being able to ‘keep it down’ if this turned out to be good, but Loki opted to ignore him and shut the door behind them. Thor’s moaning and grunting not five minutes later, pushing that crown of flowers from Loki’s head as he tangles his fingers in the long hair, guiding the Swede’s mouth just like he had in his dream.

They both want this but they can’t have it; they’re not allowed, it’s forbidden, and it creates a new place in their hearts that’s going to be constantly filled with nothing but longing.

And this is just the beginning.

**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes, hello!! it's me, after a little hiatus. i had lost some motivation with this story bc i didn't know where it was going, and then i found a new ship to write about, so i was a tad distracted, BUUUUT last night motivation slapped me in the face and now i know where this is going!!
> 
> and a new chapter is the proof!! haha, i'm really sorry for not writing, but if you're still with me, you're amazing and i love you and thank you so much, i don't deserve it <3 <3
> 
> Outfits/Inspirations for this chapter:  
> [Loki's 1st OUTfit](http://24.media.tumblr.com/b8eea1eec1d73e5000d51ad2dd5ffff9/tumblr_mft7ikHxjc1s1qcsdo2_250.jpg)  
> [Thor’s 2nd OUTfit (kinda) ](http://www.viply.de/wp-content/uploads/2012/04/chhemwido.jpg)  
> [Loki's flower crown and hairstyle for 2nd OUTfit](http://25.media.tumblr.com/59d2c559c00924e7e2e02cd73ce7b518/tumblr_mgjte6NdMe1qafjvyo1_500.jpg)  
> [Here's the inspiration behind Loki's 2nd OUTfit ](http://models.com/work/out-magazine-out-december-2011-multiple-covers)  
> and yes, Loki is loosely based off Andrej c: isn't he gorgeous?
> 
> thank you all again for reading <3 <3


	6. Chapter 6

Kitten On the Catwalk  
Summer/Summer 2012

They see each other more than anticipated in April. March had been nothing but sparse visits, filled with texting, calling, seemingly endless fucking, and late-night discussions with one another about anything and everything. Thor didn’t know why they were so drawn to each other like they were; it was an instant connection that kept them on the same level and held them together like glue. They joked around just as much as they irritated one another, like best friends - or lovers or whatever.

But of _course_ they irritated one another; Loki was easily annoyed and flighty, while Thor preferred to be honest and face things straight away. They bumped heads just as many times as they didn’t, but the makeup sex was always great. Loki liked to push away while Thor held tight.

And, as they found out, they didn’t like putting a label on what they had.

“So, what is he?” Darcy asks one afternoon, “A fuck buddy? Boyfriend? Lover?”

Loki looks up from his magazine, his brows knitted together and his eyes wide, clearly caught off-guard by the sudden question.

And he didn’t know how to answer. He wasn’t sure of what they were. Definitely not boyfriends…boyfriends were…serious. Loki still liked to mess around with other people, sometimes. Although those ‘sometimes’ were becoming rarer and rarer these days. Loki liked to blame it on the fact that he was too busy.

But, the thing was, whenever he was in New York, he was staying at Thor’s. Maybe for a day, then he’d go to his own apartment, or stay a full weekend at his not-boyfriend’s before jetting off to wherever he was wanted. He hadn’t thought about it until Darcy asked; the thought never crossed his mind. He was just comfortable with fucking Thor and crashing at his place and eating with him and just…everything else. He didn’t know how to explain it to someone who didn’t get to experience it firsthand. There was no commitment, no boundaries, but there _was_ something deeper underneath.

Perhaps if Darcy had known the way Thor held him, she’d understand. Or the way Thor kissed him, even when they weren’t fucking. The way Thor talked to him, like he was an equal and not some dumb model or freak. Thor actually _liked_ him. Truly. Or, at least, Loki assumed so.

“I…” he murmured, looking confused and lost, like a child in a crowd after losing their mum for a second, “Don’t think that’s any of your business.” Because he couldn’t look _stupid_ and say ‘I don’t know’. He was biting on the tip of his tongue already.

His agent looked surprised, “Oh?” She asked, closing a file on her desk with a flick of her wrist, “Well, you’re _my_ model, Loki, and if Thor’s going to become involved in your career, I don’t think you should be doing anything that may harm it.”

Loki bristled. Slightly. He could only be so mad at her. “He’s not going to be involved,” he muttered, flipping the page of his magazine and pretending to engross himself in an editorial, “He’s just…Thor.”

Darcy didn’t answer. Instead, she rose from her seat and sat next to him, touching his arm gently – cautiously. Loki glanced up, a little alarmed, but his eyes softened at the look on his agent’s face.

Darcy never was great at comforting or showing sympathy, but she had her moments of understanding. “I’m just looking out for your best interest, okay?” Her voice was uncharacteristically soft, “I like Thor. He’s nice, from what I hear from you. But if it comes down to your career or love life, I’m going to try and pull you towards my side. Please don’t be blinded by him.”

He took in her words, and nodded, because it was true. _This_ , his career, his modelling, was everything he ever wanted. He earned this. Thor was just a perk, nothing else. He had to focus on his career.

And if it came down to it, Loki would strut down a runway with a broken heart.

**

From what he can see, Loki’s Instagram account is amusing, to say the least. Thor had stumbled upon it while googling the Swede’s name, and amongst the fanpages and blogs, it was there. He clicked it, and within seconds his screen was filled with over a thousand pictures that were available for over fifty thousand followers. It was insane how many pictures Loki could take in seemingly a day, mostly of himself with other models at various shoots and shows, pulling silly faces or making equally silly videos.

And people _loved_ it — ate it up completely, leaving love and hate in the comments, and Thor saw a five digit number next to the little heart at the bottom of the picture.

Loki was becoming insanely popular as the days passed, and Thor wondered how he would do if he ever got an account. He doubted he’d use it at all, probably forget about it, so he pushed the thought away as he clicked onto another picture. It was Loki alone this time, at night, at what looked like downtown New York. He looked happy, smiling up at the sky, and Thor found himself admiring the ways the city’s lights shone on the Swede’s face.

The next photo had a caption of ‘I’ll be a rock n’ rollin’ bitch for you’ and Thor was pretty sure the Swede was drunk as a skunk with a friend.

A small smirk appeared on his lips, and he clicked onto the next picture.

He scrolled through a few advertisements he had been in for YSL and Dior, flaunting a new lipstick or concealer, but just closed the tab and then shut his laptop entirely, pushing it across his kitchen island. He didn’t know why he was scrolling through Loki’s Instagram when he could invite him over instead, if he wasn’t busy. It’s been over a week since he’s physically seen the other man, a visit was all but welcomed at this point. Thor liked Fandral and Hogun, he really did, they were awesome friends but he missed Loki’s snarky attitude.

Slowly, Thor lifted himself from his chair and made his way over to his bedroom down the hall, musing to himself quietly until he reached his phone and sent off a text.

Fifteen minutes later, Loki agreed to go out for drinks, and Thor began to get ready.

\--

Loki’s a platinum blond now, almost ghostly white, and his eyebrows are, too.

“Holy shit,” is all Thor smirks upon seeing the Swede perched at the bar, wearing a baggy green shirt and tight pants. He has platform sandals on his feet, strappy things that are surely ahead of their time.

“What? Don’t like it?” Loki asks as he slides Thor’s beer towards him, his own glass of wine in front of him.

“I don’t see you for a week and this happens,” Thor nods in thanks as he takes his first sip of the cool beverage, smacking his lips gently after running his tongue over them.

Loki rolls his eyes, “For a shoot,” he explains with a mutter, and isn’t it always just that.

They fall into a quiet spell, letting the noise of the bar fill the silence between them as they sipped and glanced at one another from the corner of their vision. Thor’s hair was getting long. Loki looked silly with white eyebrows. Thor had a cut on his finger. Loki’s freckles stood out more.

_Miss me?_

“Why’d you want to come out when we could have just drank at your house?” Loki asks softly, resting his chin in his head and glancing at the blond curiously.

A grin spread Thor’s mouth around the rim of his glass, and he set it down quietly, “You know why.” _Sex_.

Loki’s eyebrow rose, curious again, “Then, what?”

“I thought we could…” Thor glanced behind Loki, to the small dance floor that had a few couples hanging off one another and laughing. He flicked his gaze back to the Swede, “Dance.”

Loki’s face fell flat, disbelief obvious. “Dance?” He repeated, taking a larger sip of his wine, despite the dryness it left behind on his tongue.

“Yeah,” Thor hummed, shifting in his seat, “You love dancing.”

Loki did, but now he looked skeptical from behind his own glass, “ _You_ don’t like dancing,” he murmured before taking another sip.

“Well, people change,” Thor gave a small shrug, and Loki smirked at him, shaking his head before finishing his wine and standing.

He offered Thor his manicured hand, “Come on, then. Show me how much you’ve changed.”

\--

Thor didn’t change at all, he was terrible; born with two left feet that stepped on Loki’s a couple times. Still, Loki had more fun than he’d readily admit; Thor’s hands were much better than his feet, gripping Loki’s hips and waist perfectly. He loved wrapping his arms around Thor, loved how he couldn’t touch his fingertips together. Loved how Thor’s back felt under his hands, warm and solid, offered support when Loki felt a little too wobbly.

They left the bar after an hour of straight dancing, their cheeks warm from it and the alcohol, and they laughed as they began down the street.

“My dancing man,” Loki teased, pressing Thor against a brick wall and tucking a strand of hair behind the blond’s ear that the wind had mussed.

“Yours?” Thor hummed, pleased, reaching up to take Loki’s hand and pressed a firm kiss to his palm.

Loki flushed pink and ripped his hand away, glad when Thor wrapped his arms around his waist instead, “What now?” Thor murmured behind his ear, pressing his lips against the soft skin there.

Loki glanced across the street, ignoring the stares they gathered, and he patted Thor’s arms.

“Let me go,” he ordered, but softened his voice after a moment, “Firstly.”

Thor did so, but took his hand again, and Loki sighed. He was stuck with him.

“Follow me,” he said softly, pulling Thor along in promises of fun.

\--

The next morning, Thor wakes with a fat head, and Loki. He sputters the white hair sticking to his lips and rubs his eyes, groaning softly at the ache lingering behind them. Loki’s smooth, shaven leg hooks around his waist and the Swede mutters nonsense under his breath in his Native tongue, pressing his face into Thor’s neck and inhaling deeply.

“Loki…” Oh, Jesus, is that his voice?

“Mm…”

Thor flexes the arm that’s trapped under Loki, and Loki whines like a petulant child.

Petulant was a perfect way to describe Loki, actually.

“Do you want coffee?” Thor murmurs, frowning at the sour taste in his mouth. He hated morning breath.

“No.”

“Ok, you sleep, and I’ll go get some.”

Loki reaches over under the covers, patting at the warm skin of Thor’s chest with his fingers, until he finds a nipple and pinches it. The Swede laughs as he’s called a rather rude name, but lets Thor go as he slips from the bed and disappears across the hall to the bathroom. The easiness is back, missed but now returned.

“What time is it?” Loki asks, turning onto his back and stretching, sliding his feet towards the cooler corners of the bed and jerking them back into the warmth. He risks a glance towards the window and sees that the sun is in the sky; probably around noon.

A faint ‘eleven’ is given over the sound of running water, and Loki sighs, reaching under the pillows and searching for his phone. When he feels it, he grabs it, and lifts to his face. He scrolls through the numerous notifications, and unlocks the preview for Darcy’s text message.

‘ _You’re booked tonight, 6 pm. I’ll pick you up later._ ’ Another show, another day.

He scrolls through a few more messages before Thor comes back into the room, his hair slicked back with water and tied into a small bun at the nape of his neck. Loki stuffs his phone back under the pillow and watches him, a content little smile curving his lips. Thor catches it, and raises a brow in return, curious.

“What?” He finally asks, and Loki shrugs.

“Just thinking about the coffee.” He wonders why lying comes so easily to him.  
  
**

Perhaps he takes this relationship for granted. Maybe he needs to talk to Thor, ask his opinion on the unsaid agreement between them. It’s like their skirting around the topic all the time, unasked questions decaying on their tongues. What is this? What are we? Is this even ok? Why are we doing this?

The first time Thor holds his hand in public, in broad daylight without a drop of alcohol in his blood, Loki rips it back and demands to know why Thor is so stupid. He’s scared and embarrassed, but it’s always easier to be angry, so he does, and Thor feels shame burn at the tips of his ears but knows it’s anger burning in his eyes, too. It can’t be tears.

He pulls Loki into a nearby shop and they argue in hushed voices in the back between dusty aisles, hiding away from everyone, like they always do.

“Why does everything have to be a fucking secret with you?!”

“I’m not a fucking idiot, Thor, I know what will happen if I don’t be careful.”

“What can happen, hmm? Please enlighten me, because the last time I checked, holding hands is perfectly acceptable in public.”

“But it’s not for me, okay?! I can be _hurt_ , Thor, and I don’t want to be. I had enough of that shit in my life, and I definitely don’t need it now, not when I’m so close to finally achieving my dreams.”

Thor made his strange noise of exasperation and paired it with frustrated hand gestures. If Loki hadn’t been so upset, he would have laughed. Instead, his blood boiled, and he snapped when Thor’s hushed tone reached his ears, “That’s bullshit, and you know it.”

He gave Thor a hard stare and pushed at his chest, frustrated when the blond didn’t even budge, “My dreams are _not_ bullshit, Thor. You may not have dreamed of being a model when you were a kid, but _I_ did. _This_ is my life, Thor, I love posing for pictures for magazines and collections, walking down a long runway wearing clothes that barely fit me, and getting blisters from beautiful shoes—this is what I want to do with myself. It’s what I’m _good_ at, and when you grow up hearing things like ‘freak’ and ‘he-she’ and ‘ _it_ ’, when all of your hard work begins to pay off, it feels fucking _great_. You may not be able to understand that, but I do, and that’s all that should matter.”

He was breathing hard by the end of it, his cheeks flushed in embarrassment and his eyes stinging with unshed tears. Every nasty name and hurtful memory brought back to the surface, having been kept away for so long, was back and it did the same damage.

Thor was speechless, quiet and unsure. He hadn’t seen this side of Loki before. The Swede was always oozing confidence with his mischievous smirk and silver tongue. This Loki was vulnerable and clearly uncomfortable, his thin arms wrapped around himself, avoiding eye contact now.

Loki muttered something dismissive under his breath, and when he left the shop without Thor, the blond didn’t follow.

\--

Loki’s hurt, yeah. But he’s used to it. Growing up confused did that to you. It hurt you. You felt uncomfortable in your own skin, you hated it. Loki loves himself now, has for _years_ , and it’s freeing. He doesn’t care what people think about him because it doesn’t matter. Only his opinion matters.

But, sometimes he gets hurt. Thor pushed him too far, further than usual. Their arguments were never that bad, everything blew over within a day or two, sometimes as short as an hour. An apology and a kiss would do it, but not this time.

He hadn’t expected something like that between them, something so hurtful coming from Thor; it had stung, he remembered his dark days, when he’d lay awake at night and think himself to tears over the hurtful words whispered behind his back.

He thought moving away from home, going across the world would fix it, but apparently not. You can’t run from things forever. Eventually, you have to face it.  
  
**

“You did _what_?”

Sif’s pretty face is twisted and Thor is starting to regret ever opening his mouth. Again.

It’s been a week since he’s last spoken to Loki, mostly due to the fact that the Swede refuses to answer his calls or reply to his texts. He’s getting the ultimate cold shoulder, and he knows it, but he couldn’t suffer in silence anymore.

So, he went to Sif. And he might regret it.

Agents weren’t the best psychologists when it came down to it, but she was his closest friend who had some sort of relationship knowledge.

“I held his hand while he were walking down the street, and he freaked. I’ve held his waist or shoulder before, and he seemed fine with it—”

“You two were drunk, though, right?”

He groaned and rubbed at his face, leaning back in the stiff office chair he had plopped down in.

Sif sighed, equally as stressed, and began to flip through the papers in front of her, “I _told_ you that Loki was trouble. He’s done nothing but stress you out these past couple of months.”

“That’s because I don’t tell you about the good stuff that he does. I come to you when I have problems.”

“And you’re an ass for that, but I understand,” Sif shoved the papers aside and rubbed at her temples, “You’re going to have to tell me on the way to the show, we’re going to run late if we stay any longer.”

“Fine.”

\--

Sif didn’t have anything helpful to say, surprisingly. Thor blamed it on the stress she was under. Since he was becoming so busy, she had to deal with his schedules and deadlines and contracts and whatnot. It wasn’t an easy time for anyone, it seemed. Even he had two do three shows this week, along with various other things. He could already feel his feet start to ache.

And while he was walking down the raised platform in front of flashing cameras and murmuring crowds, he thought that he didn’t show his appreciation enough. Sif was keeping him in check and helping him grow. Loki had been right about this not being his dream, but that didn’t mean that he wasn’t grateful. Because of modelling, he could afford his own little apartment and live his life comfortably. And most of it was because of Sif.

So, when he left the show with her, he offered to buy her dinner as a show of ‘thank you’. She accepted, and as they settled down in a quiet little place, it was amazing how much she began to relax. She smiled easier, laughed a little louder, and although she still looked exhausted, her shoulders weren’t up to her ears and her gaze was soft.

“You know, you should be doing this for Loki. If you really wanted to get him back.” She murmured, taking a sip of her glass of wine.

Thor was startled at the sudden topic change, but nodded quietly, unsure of what to say. Loki wouldn’t agree to something like this in a million years.

“Why not?” She asked, when Thor voiced his thoughts.

He shrugged, his face pinched with something indescribable, “He’s…all about appearances, I suppose. I can’t hold his hand in the middle of the day, I can’t even kiss him backstage at shows or hug him. It’s all in secret, in dark corners or at home. I just don’t understand _why_.”

Sif frowned, thoughtful as she swirled the liquid around in her glass, before she cleared her throat and placed it down onto the table. “Do you think that maybe…he’s ashamed?”

Now, _that_ was something Thor hadn’t thought about before.

“But that doesn’t make sense—I mean, look at him! He’s an androgynous model who doesn’t like putting a label on what he is. He likes both men and women, why would he be ashamed of me?” He didn’t like the thought one bit, but he was desperate to find an answer here.

“Well,” Sif licked her lips as she shifted in her seat, “If it’s not that, maybe it’s _him_? Not you?”

“That look on your face tells me everything. You’re being a self-absorbed asshat, aren’t you?”

“I think I am…”

Sif sighed and gave a small disbelieving laugh, shaking her head with a fond little smile, “Thor, you need to pull your head out of your ass here. Loki’s hurt because of his own reasons, not yours. You should talk to him.”

“I’ve tried! He won’t answer my texts or anything.”

His agent looked ready to slap him silly. “You know where his lives, don’t you?”

He gave Sif a meek little smile and she laughed before ordering another glass of wine.  
  
**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for not updating in so long! I lost motivation, school began, I worked a lot in the summer, and so on with the excuses. So, to make up for it, here are TWO new chapters!! pls enjoy <3  
> oh, and thanks to my wifey, again!! she's amazing!


	7. Chapter 7

Kitten On the Catwalk   
Summer 2012

How long has it been? Just over two weeks? Thor had tried to come over three days ago, but like a coward, he had run away to his friend’s. Two days ago, Thor had flowers delivered to his apartment, a small card messily scrawled with ‘I’m sorry’. Loki’s face had almost split in two with how hard he had grinned. And yesterday, when Thor had text him, asking ‘will you ever forgive me?’, he had replied with a coy ‘maybe’. Thor sent back a smiling emoji, and that had been enough to send Loki’s heart racing.

He’s thinking of making up. He misses Thor, as stupid as he is. This is their first ‘real’ fight, after all, and perhaps he’s overreacting now. It was reasonable to be mad for a few days, but two weeks is just overkill and unnecessary hurt. Not that he’d admit it, of course. He could just let Thor think that he’s forgiven and see what happens.

But, then again, that’s just mean.

He’s been avoiding Thor like he’s been avoiding his problems. His panic attacks are back, ambushing him late at night, when he wakes up gasping for air and turns on all the lights in his apartment until he’s calmed himself down. It’s the abuse coming back to him in the shape of nightmares, wringing his neck until he’s choking on his screams.

He tells Darcy, and she worries. She tells him to inquire about a therapist, but he refuses, relying on the advice from his school’s counsellor that he got all those years ago.

Still, she worries, and keeps a closer eye on him. She answers all of his middle of the night phone calls, lends him her ear for his problems, but still, Loki’s not Loki.

And, of course, she blames Thor.

He tries to change her mind, but she won’t listen. She says that if Thor hadn’t come into his life, Loki would be fine. He wouldn’t have brought back all of those negative feelings.

Loki doesn’t believe so. He figures out that he’s holding himself back, not Thor. Thor is a guy that he met by chance, and he likes having Thor in his life. Thor and his own personal problems are separate things, and they should stay that way.

He realizes this at a charity event, sipping champagne on a lovely sofa, surrounded by lovely people.

An hour later, after excusing himself from Darcy’s company, he calls him just as he’s getting back home.

“…Loki?” Thor’s tired voice answers, and Loki glances over at the clock on the wall. Just past two a.m. Oops.

“Hi,” he murmurs, biting his lip and beginning to quietly toe off his heels.

Thor’s sleepy voice is just as he remembers, “It’s two in the morning, you know…”

“I know.”

Thor sighs, and Loki walks down the dark hall of his apartment. What does he say? “I want to accept your apology,” he finally announces, turning the corner to head to his bedroom.

The line is quiet, until Thor chuckles, “Seriously?” He asks, his voice quiet and tired. It makes Loki pleasantly drowsy.

“I know it’s hard to believe at two in the morning when I just got back from an after party, where I had a little to drink, but…I mean it.” There.

Thor’s quiet as Loki begins to unbutton his pants with one hand, pushing it down his thin legs. “I guess the liquid courage explains why you’re calling first,” Thor teases softly, his voice distant.

“Shut up and be happy I’m talking to you again,” Loki grunts as he gets stuck in his shirt, his long arms tangled as he tried to keep the phone to his ear.

“…are you okay?” Thor asks, skeptical, and Loki grunts again.

“’m fine,” he mutters, bending over and trying to pull the collar over his chin.

“If you say so,” the blond sighs, “Fine. We’re okay. Can I go back to sleep now?”

“No,” Loki throws the shirt towards the hamper, breathing a little hard as he goes towards his closet to grab something to wear, “You need to come over and sleep with me.” Yeah, okay, that’s definitely the alcohol talking.

“Right _now_?”

“Yes, right _now_.”

Thor’s quiet for hopefully the last time, and Loki grabs a pair of sweats before leaving the closet to get back to his bed.

“Fine, I’ll be there in half an hour.”

He’s got Thor wrapped around his finger, doesn’t he?  
  
**

He doesn’t know why he’s doing this, but he is. Loki is finally talking to him again after about two weeks. His gifts may have worked, after all. He really had been sorry, and still is. He had a feeling confronting Loki was a bad idea, but he had done it, and he regrets it. It was his fault, and he had to accept the consequences, but now he knows what not to do. It was a learning process with Loki; he was still figuring out the other model every day.

But now, as he steps into Loki’s apartment again, catching green eyes with his own, he takes a deep breath and gives Loki a smile.

Loki steps into him and Thor wraps his arms around him in a quick hug, catching the scent of cigarettes and liquor on his purple hair.

“You’re purple now?” He asks, touching the curled ends of Loki’s eggplant-hued hair.

“Mhm,” Loki hums, leaning against his chest, and Thor ignores how nice it feels.

Instead, he pats Loki’s back, and encourages him towards the bedroom for sleep.

\--

He settles down into the dangerously familiar bed, pulling the blankets up over himself and Loki, making sure the other model was completely covered before he began to steal it during the night. He had suggested separate blankets but Loki was a clingy cuddler so it didn't work out too well. They both just suffered through it.

The blond was half asleep when he felt a shifting beside him.

Oh, god, what was Loki doing?

He asked in a sleepy voice, and to answer him, Loki pressed his suddenly naked body against Thor's.

Make-up sex so soon?

"Loki..." That warning tone was usually enough for the Swede to back off, but he was a little drunk, therefore a lot more stubborn than usual.

Thor heard a whisper about wanting him and he sighed, exasperated, trying to fight off wandering hands and nibbling lips.

"Loki, stop it."

There was a whine followed by a pout, "Why not? You always want to..."

"You're drunk and I’m tired."

Loki huffed and turned around, cuddling one of his many pillows and muttering something that sounded like an irritated 'noble and honourable Thor'.

They laid there quietly for a bit, and Thor stared up at the ceiling, waiting. 

What broke the silence this time was Loki's phone buzzing on the side table, and the model reached over and swiped the screen with his thumb to read the newest message.

"Fucking great." Was all Thor heard, and then the tapping of a reply, until Loki huffed and set his phone back into its place.

"What?" He asked quietly, testing the waters.

Loki didn't glance over at him yet, "Some asshole's running for Male Model Of the Year." 

_What?_ "What?"

There was something akin to a stunned silence before Loki began. "Okay," Loki shifted up into a sitting position, getting comfortable as if he wasn't completely naked at the moment. He held his hands up in front of him and stared at Thor, "Since you're a complete buffoon and have been living under a rock, winning Male Model Of the Year is pretty much my dream. It's what you strive for. You get your face up anywhere and everywhere, as much as you can -- /but/, people have to like you. They vote for you, after all, so if you're nice with your fans and such, you're golden."

That explains why Loki willingly took so many selfies with his fans and gave them hugs and kisses on the cheek. He was sucking up to them. He was playing them, in a weird and twisted way, to get what he wanted. 

"So, you're manipulating them?"

Loki looked put-off, "No," he huffed, even though he kind of was, "I do like my fans. They're making me famous. I really do care about them, it's just that...they're helping me."

"You're delusional," Thor smirked, his body twitching with an 'ow!' as Loki smacked his vulnerable stomach, and he began to chuckle at Loki's face in the dark.

"I am not! You're being an asshole, and I just forgave you. You don't understand because you don't have any fans." Oh, Loki was trying to hurt him, wasn't he?

"You're right," the blond hummed, grabbing a hold of Loki's delicate wrist and pulling him back down onto the bed so he could cuddle as usual, "There's no way I'm winning that this year, Loki. I'm too new."

"Oh, but that's where you're wrong," Loki tapped the tip of Thor's nose, "It gives you a slight advantage. You're new, you're handsome, you're muscular, you're deliciously rugged, and...I've said too much." Loki buried his face into Thor's chest.

They were quiet for a moment, listening to the sound of distant sirens outside, until Thor snorted a laugh.

"...deliciously rugged is a new one."

"Oh, shut up and go to sleep."  
  
**

It’s in May that Darcy tells him that he’s being sent back to Europe at the end of the season, but not to Sweden. Amsterdam wants him for a shoot, so he must go, and he’s excited. He hasn’t been back home in what feels like forever, so he’s hoping to get maybe a few days off to go see his mother and brothers.

“Amsterdam?” Thor’s eyebrows shoot to the roof, and Loki nods quietly one evening in the blond’s apartment.

“I think it’s Vogue who wants me,” he murmurs, playing with the knot on his sweater’s string, “I wasn’t really listening after I heard ‘Amsterdam’.” He had gone over to Thor’s almost instantly after hearing the news, needing to tell _someone_ who would care. His family would be happy, sure, but they had their own things to worry about and would brush the news off with questions about when he was coming home. Darcy was his agent, and Thor was pretty much his only other friend available at the moment, so…

“Understandable,” Thor hums, reaching forward to grab his bottle of water from the coffee table, and Loki curled his legs under himself. His own was untouched, for now. He was still digesting the news.

The bottle was back on the table and Thor put his muscled arm over the back of the couch, just behind Loki, “And how does that make you feel?” He asks in this funny little voice.

Oh, Loki wanted to slap him for being so adorably dumb. He glances over at the blond and purses his lips, murmuring, “Happy, I suppose.”

“You suppose?”

“Yes, I suppose,” Loki says with a frown, turning back to the TV playing _The Girls Next Door_. He was upset the series ended, but at least he had reruns.

He felt a weight on his shoulder. It was Thor’s head.

“Thinking of going back home?”

Thor had a thick skull if he thought Loki wanted to talk about it anymore. He was done with it, accepted the fact, and maybe he’d even be excited in a month or two. There was no need to dwell.

He pushed Thor’s head off his shoulder and pouted at him, giving him a look of ‘don’t talk to me while Holly is talking to Hugh’ before pulling his hood over his head and pulling the drawstrings tight.

\--

Loki regretted not sleeping in the car on the way back from the show. He was dead tired; the kind of exhausted that settled behind your eyes and kept you up despite the lethargy settling into your bones. He wanted to throw up. He wanted to lie down. He wanted to watch some TV and hope he drifted off. But he couldn’t, it _sucked_ , and all he did was make tomorrow’s salad and rub at his eyes to clear the fuzziness of his vision.

He was grumpy, too. More than usual.

And suddenly, Thor was there; the blond’s familiar voice drifting from the speaker in the wall down the hall to where Loki was cutting up fruit.

He sounded happy. Ugh.

He pressed the button a little too hard, his finger almost jamming, “ _What?_ ”

“Let me in!” Thor chuckled in the way that usually made Loki fight back a smile.

It didn’t make him do anything but frown tonight, “Ask nicely,” he grit through his teeth, pouting.

“…please and thank you?”

So, he let the blond pain in the ass in. Honestly, he was already in a bad mood, why did he allow Thor to visit?

Oh, right, Thor was irresistible sometimes. _Sometimes_.

The first words he laughed were, "You're a ginger now?" as Loki let him into the apartment.

It was true, though. Loki's long hair had gone from its former faded purple to a now copper red, if not orange. He had it tied into a messy and loose bun high on the back of his head, and he gave Thor a one-fingered salute before shuffling back to the kitchen on socked feet.

He was actually wearing sweatpants and a zipped-up sweater. Loki never wore such a combination unless he was sick, which he might as well have been.

"And your eyebrows are still blond," Thor chuckled again, deep and rich, shutting and locking the door behind him before beginning to shrug off his jacket.

"It's edgy," Loki said, taking his place back in the kitchen to continue to cut his strawberries.

The other model took a seat across from him at the island, watching him closely, carefully, in the way that irritated Loki often, "Who told you that?” Thor finally asked, “Darcy?" 

"And Igor,” he muttered, narrowly missing the tip of his index finger.

"Igor did your hair again?" Thor asked, raising a brow.

Loki gave him a half-glare, as if he was offended Thor didn’t know such a simple thing, "He always does my hair.”

Thor eyed the counter before nodding, standing after a moment, "Did you want to go orange?" He asked, walking to the fridge and inspecting the insides. He wasn’t letting the orange go.

"Copper,” he corrected, “And I just thought 'why not'," he muttered, pushing the strawberry aside, "And it's for a shoot this week." He glanced back at the other, eyeing his back and admiring the muscles underneath the thin t-shirt despite his grump, "Why? Don't you like it?"

"It's...different," Thor hummed as he grabbed a small can of tomato juice, and Loki rolled his eyes.

"I didn't say anything when you had to wear that ugly brown wig last month."

"Only because it looked nice and you didn't want to admit it." He snapped the can open.

Loki huffed and pouted, "Oh, shut up."

Thor downed that little can within a minute. "What? No witty retort?" He was surprised. Loki the silver-tongued wasn't putting up much of a fight tonight, but he definitely wasn’t missing the usual bite Thor liked. He was just being plain unpleasant.

"I'm fucking tired, leave me alone," the ginger sighed, slicing through another fat strawberry, hoping Thor would do just that. Maybe he would go home and accept his new hair colour.

But, because Thor was Thor, he frowned and stepped to stand beside the smaller man, watching him closely. Loki finally glanced over, not moving his head, and that's when the blond noticed the dark circles under his tired green eyes.

"Go the fuck to sleep," was all Thor said, so simply, with his voice tinged with concern and Loki elbowed him in the side before going to find a plastic container.

"No," he said as he rifled through the Tupperware loudly.

"Why not?"

"Because you're here."

"I'm tired, too. We can sleep together."

That didn't sound like a bad idea. "No, you hog the blankets."

"And you cling like a desperate girlfriend. Come on..."

Loki stood and went back to the strawberries, ignoring the muscled man beside him as he slid the sliced fruit into the transparent container. Thor nudged him one last time before he huffed a sharp "Fine!" and threw the knife into the sink loudly.

Thor only smiled brightly, "Great, I'll go warm the bed," he said, slapping Loki's ass before sneaking off towards the bedroom.

Oh, this was going to be a long night.  
  
\--  
  
So, Thor had hogged and Loki clung, but only because the bastard stole the blankets and he needed warmth to sleep, dammit. It was cold in here and Thor was a fucking furnace half the time.

But, honestly, Loki had slept well. He had woken nuzzled into Thor's neck, an arm and leg thrown over the much larger body and the sunlight was filtering in through the blinds. It had to be around ten when he finally peeled his eyelids open and rubbed away the fuzzies.

The ginger snuck out of the bed, brushing a strand of hair behind his ear as he walked towards the bathroom to relieve his bladder.

When he returned, Thor was awake and sitting against the headboard. "You're cute," he smirked upon seeing Loki's sleepwear: Thor's too-large black shirt and dark red boxer-briefs, although one could barely see them. His orange hair was still up in that bun, although it was extra messy from sleep.

"Better than what you're wearing," Loki hummed, crawling back into bed, "Or lack thereof," he smirked, pulling the blankets from Thor's side of the bed and settling into his naked side again. 

Thor wrapped an arm around Loki easily and stared at a picture across the room, thumbing at the bone of a lightly freckled shoulder lazily.

Loki fell asleep again.

\--

The last time he sees Thor that month, he goes over to the blond’s apartment after a day of shopping.

"These shoes fucking _hurt_ ," Loki said, kicking off his boots angrily at the door. Thor watched him from the couch, eyebrows halfway up his forehead.

"They're cute," he offered, knowing the pain of breaking in new shoes.

"Rag & Bone always are," Loki huffed, "But their fucking shoes are rubbing blisters into my feet and it’s burning like the deepest pits of Hell." Loki kicked his black boot across the entrance before slamming the door shut, frowning all the way towards Thor's bedroom, stomping his feet purposely.

"They can't be that bad," the golden-haired model muttered, grabbing the remote and switching the 1000 Ways To Die to something more Loki-friendly. E!News.

"Oh, yes they are," the other model came back into the living room, a dark green shirt clutched in his hand. Thor eyed it before he felt Loki's weight dip the couch beside him, settling down comfortably on one leg.

"What are you doing with my shirt?" He asked, reaching over to take it back but Loki snatched it away, a thin dark eyebrow ticked higher than the other. They stared at each other for a few moments, quiet.

"It's my shirt," Thor began.

"No it isn't, it's mine." Loki wasn't letting him have it.

"What size is it?

"Medium."

"Don't lie."

"I'm not!"

"Show me the collar."

Loki frowned and clutched the shirt to his chest, "Okay fine, it's yours..." He muttered, glancing down at it, brushing a black strand of hair behind his ear.

So much for being sneaky. Thor looked even more curious now, "Why do you have it?"

"Because I want it," Loki snapped, and felt guilty for it. But he didn't apologize, he never did.

Thor rolled his eyes and leaned over, watching Loki lean away slightly, "Yes, but _why_?" 

"I'm being flown to Amsterdam on Friday and you know how I get..."

_Lonely_.

"No way," Thor laughed, and Loki looked like he sucked on a lemon, "Sentiment? From Loki Laufeyson?"

The black-haired model reached over and slapped his arm, hard, but Thor kept snickering.

"You're my only close friend and only competition. It makes sense to take this, it'll remind me to stay focused."

_And miss you less_.

A sincere smile appeared on Thor's face, and although his eyes were a little sad, he reached over to grasp the back of Loki's neck. 

He relaxed instantly into the touch.

"You'll do great," the blond murmured, and Loki glanced down at the couch as Thor pressed their foreheads together gently.

And when Loki’s boarding his plane with Darcy two days later, he settles into his window seat and rubs the soft fabric of Thor’s shirt between his fingertips, wondering if it will all be worth it.

**

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! 
> 
> Oh god I'm so nervous.
> 
> This is my first fic posted in like five years, so I want to thank my lovely zucchini ThatJotunPoleDancer for helping me out with this story. It's only just begun, but I'm already so thankful to have her helping me out.
> 
> And, when the time comes (and it will), I'll be putting up reference pictures of what they wear for photo shoots or shows just in case anyone's curious c:
> 
> Also, here is [Thor's i-D cover](http://images6.fanpop.com/image/photos/32300000/Chris-Hemsworth-3-hottest-actors-32394358-417-500.png)  
> I hoped you enjoyed!
> 
> **DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE BRANDS, MAGAZINES, OR CHARACTERS MENTIONED IN THIS STORY.**


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